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"When will the stroppy cow get it through her thick skull that she's never getting a private dinner meeting?" Hermione raged as she responded to yet another letter from Dolores Umbridge that the Deputy Minister was unavailable for dinner this month.
"The Umbridge bitch?" Pansy asked, continuing to file her nails. Hermione didn't allow herself to get upset about the nail filings accumulating on the black leather, mentally noting that she'd need to clean up after the girl left.
"Of course," Hermione said with the roll of her eyes. "She's relentless."
"What does she even want?"
"She's a mid-ranked lackey down in the Department of Ed and wants in the Deputy Minister's trousers."
Pansy smirked, "She wouldn't be the only one."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Hermione asked, face turning pink. She was careful with her burgeoning crush, a mixture of professionalism and fear causing her to keep her mouth shut.
The hellion simply raised an eyebrow before going back to filing, leaving Hermione in a silence she was anything but comfortable with.
It'd been 17 days since she'd last seen Harry, and she was finally set to see him tonight.
Draco was perpetually perturbed at Hermione's inability to describe exactly why she was friends with Ron and Harry, which had led to an hours long conversation on Hermione's life that left him with a good understanding of the onion of a woman in front of him and her thinking he should've become a mind healer.
"So basically we're the only real friends you've ever had?" Draco had asked after Hermione finished talking.
"The jury remains out on if you're my friends, Draco," Hermione replied with a tight smile, eyes showing that she knew more than she was willing to say. "But if I decide that you are, then… yes. You'll join Luna on a short list."
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"Everything all right, Hermione?" Tom asked, noticing the girl's inability to focus since she'd walked in that morning and put her own tea on his desk.
His intuition was proven right when she jumped at his voice.
"Yes, sir. I'm sorry, sir," Hermione said with a weak smile, weighing whether or not to tell her boss what was on her mind.
Tom, without even fully probing the girl's mind could figure that out.
"You can trust me, Hermione. No need to worry about professional boundaries past 5, especially when it's clearly affecting you."
The girl sighed, "I'm getting dinner with some old friends, including Harry. Relations are a bit strained, you see. Even more so lately."
Tom did his best to let out a pained noise in commiseration. Life would be so much easier when Hermione was his and they were no longer dancing around each other.
"That sounds particularly uncomfortable. I will keep you in my thoughts," Tom said, pleased that he managed to strike the right tone.
"Thank you, sir." Hermione said with a small smile of her own.
"Of course, my dear. You'll have to fill me in tomorrow," Tom said, waving the girl away with a hand. "Now go, I'll see you in the morning."
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Hermione's stomach cramped as she apparated to the front gate of the Potter's ancestral manor, a white and blue monstrosity with more turrets than Hogwarts. Harry laughed at Hermione's horrified expression the first time she'd come over, explaining that a very pregnant Henrietta Potter III was angry she was unfit to travel to their Grecian summer house, prompting her husband to have elves hand paint the entire manor blue and white.
"Miss Herm!" a bulgy-eyed elf said with a smile.
"Oh, Noggy! I've missed you," Hermione replied with a smile of her own. "How are you?"
"Noggy is being good, very good. He is excited for the spring flowers!"
"How lovely," Hermione said as she walked along the path with the elf, holding her cloak tighter to her body to guard against the chill. "Who is here for dinner?"
"The whole Potters is being here with the Weasleys and Blacks. Noggy is saying because he is liking Miss Herm, but they is not saying nice things."
"That's to be expected, Noggy," Hermione replied with a soothing smile to the elf.
"Mione," Ron said with a cautious glance towards the girl as she walked in.
"Ron, everyone," Hermione said as she eyed the entire table. "I didn't realize that everyone would be here."
"This is a family affair, my girl," Charlus Potter said with a tight smile from the head of the table. "We all wanted to check in on you."
Funny how it took me getting a job for you to check in, Hermione thought bitterly. She'd promised herself that she'd never forget who helped her and who sat to the side and watched her suffer. Thankfully, the list was long and all the tallies were on one side. No one helped her except for Tom.
"Dig in," Charlus said after a pause as Hermione sat down next to Marlene McKinnon Black, granting the woman a tight smile. She'd always been a bit of a flighty chit, the way she paraded around in Black family jewels at society events enough for Hermione to know where the woman's priorities lay.
"How's the new job, Hermione?" Lily Potter asked after an extended silence, a thin smile on her lips. She probably thought she looked pleasant, Hermione thought to herself.
"It's wonderful," Hermione beamed. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't downplay her joy and success in anyone's presence; she deserved it as much as anyone else. "The Deputy Minister is a tough man, but I can't imagine a better learning experience."
Sirius choked slightly on his salad at that, clearly having something to say. Hermione was pleased to see that Ophiuchus, his son, wasn't there. The boy was a spitting image of his father both in his ability to rip someone to shreds with a single sentence and his unwavering loyalty to his family and friends. For some reason, the boy decided that Hermione was not included in that group and made it his mission to leave the girl out of every get together he'd have, with his simpering mother and oblivious father on his side no matter who protested. The boy was on her list.
Hermione chanced a look at Harry, seeing her friend's drawn expression from where he sat next to Ginny. The boy was always somewhat put upon, for what reason, Hermione couldn't tell you, but he looked like the weight of the world was resting on his shoulders as he stabbed his fork into the plate of greens in front of him.
"Sounds about right," James answered with a half-hearted smile of his own. "Not to dig into your business, Hermione, but we wanted you to know that we're all here for you. Not having, er, parents, especially in this world is difficult. We want you to know that we are all happy to step into that role, whether you need help or a shoulder to lean on."
The girl swallowed her simmering anger.
"Thank you for the kind offer. Respectfully, as much as this offer would've been appreciated months ago… I am doing well for myself now."
"Until you're not," Sirius said with a raised brow. "Tom Riddle sucks you in and spits you out, girl. The moment you get on the wrong side of him is the moment you see the side he's hiding."
"Like Harry," Ron piped up.
"What's that supposed to mean, Ronald?"
"You were at the meeting, sweetheart," James said slowly as though he were talking to a four-year-old. "The man didn't want the drinking age legislation on the floor of the Wizengamot, but it passed… only weeks later, my of-age son is on the front page of the Prophet for being drunk and disorderly. There is coincidence and there is retaliation, Hermione."
"You're blaming Deputy Minister Riddle for Harry's own actions? He wouldn't have been on the front page if he didn't call me a mudblood, Mr. Potter!"
"I didn't call you a mudblood," Harry piped up, emotion coming into his eyes for the first time.
"Good as well, Harry. I was willing to make amends, but I didn't figure you'd want to hash this out in front of everyone we know," Hermione said, skin slightly flushed as she realized she was losing her temper in front of her friend's parents and grandparents.
"We're family here, Hermione. Nothing leaves this table," Lily said with a motherly smile that the girl had sought out months earlier, only to be turned away with a prim "that's why I got married straight out of Hogwarts."
"I'm not sure that's true," Hermione said with a shaky smile, well aware of the distrusting looks she was receiving from everyone but Dorea Black Potter. She was done trying. "I'm feeling rather faint all of a sudden and think I should rest. I apologize for leaving so soon."
"I'll walk you out, dear," Dorea Potter said with finality, standing up as her black and gray curls bounced on her shoulders. Hermione was shocked when the woman linked arms with her, a gesture she didn't expect from a woman she'd only spoken to a few times.
The woman led Hermione to the Floo in silence, shutting the doors before speaking.
"I may be a Potter in name, but I'm a Black in heart and mind," the woman said with gray eyes trained on Hermione. She reminded her of Bellatrix Lestrange which was a comfort in what felt like hostile enemy territory. "Trust your instincts, Hermione."
"Yes, ma'am." Hermione replied with a nod. She had to blink back tears when the woman hugged her tightly in a way she'd always longed for.
"Owl me any time, dearie."
"I will," Hermione smiled, destination solidifying in her mind after a moment of thought.
She grabbed Floo powder and waved goodbye with her free hand. "Lord's study, Malfoy Manor!"
"Hermione?" Abraxas said, standing up with a furrowed brow as he looked over the girl.
"Hello sir," Hermione answered somewhat breathlessly and self-conscious at the gall of Flooing into the man's private study. "You had said I could come if I needed you, and…"
"I only say what I mean, dearest," Abraxas said with a relieved smile after assessing the girl's form and seeing she wasn't hurt. "Come sit down."
Hermione moved to the plush L-shaped leather couch and sighed as she sunk into the plush comfort.
"Nice, hm?" Abraxas said with the wiggle of his eyebrows as he sat down near the girl, a glass of dark liquor in his hand.
"So comfy," Hermione smiled.
"First order of business... have you eaten supper?"
"I haven't, but I'll eat once I'm home," Hermione said with an unworried look. "I won't take too much of your time."
"Nonsense, dear. You'll have to eat with me in order to enjoy the best cooking galleons can't buy, but I think you'll survive," Abraxas chuckled at himself and snapped his fingers.
A hot pink house elf with a green tuft of hair on its head popped in. Hermione's eyes bulged at the cute sight.
"Zepner, set dinner for two in my sitting room."
"Yessir, Master Braxas!" the elf replied, popping out of the room with a wriggle of his tulle-covered hips.
"I love him," Hermione blurted out, causing the man to laugh out loud.
"Fun, isn't he? We've been together since I was born, he's like the brother I never wanted and am forever stuck with."
"Why is he so… colourful? I've never seen an elf like him."
"He transfigured himself, my dear. He's big on the latest muggle fashion trends; I'm not sure who deemed bright pink stylish, but it makes him happy. That's all that matters to me. Now… tell me, what brought you here?"
"Thank you for having me, Lord Malfoy. I apologize for barging in on your evening."
"You'll have to call me Brax or papa, little one. I'm much too fond of you for you to be anything but my friend or my daughter," the man said with a fond smile that had Hermione feeling incredulously happy. The man was nothing like she first thought.
"Brax," Hermione said with a tentative smile, receiving a wink in return letting her know that he was still pleased with her. "I was at Potter Place and had a bit of a rough go of it. My friends led me to believe we'd be having a private dinner, but I walked into the Spanish Inquisition."
The blond looked as though he couldn't decide between concern, anger and confusion and motioned for her to continue.
"After getting berated about working for Tom, I decided to leave. Surprisingly, Lady Potter led me to the Floo and left me with an ominous comment about knowing who really cares for me."
"Dorea was always a smart witch," Abraxas mused with a sigh. "Pity she had to fulfill a contract with Potter."
"They were betrothed? It wasn't a love match?" Hermione asked in surprise.
"It almost always never is," Abraxas replied with a sigh. "Some of us get on better than others, but our purpose isn't love.. It's duty."
"That sounds like a sad existence."
"I'm quite happy despite my wife's perpetual vacation to France," Abraxas said with a smile. "She is a good woman, we just aren't meant to always be in one another's company. Would you tell me about your family?"
"Of course," Hermione said with a deep breath. "I was raised in Hampstead in north London, my parents are both dentists or muggle teeth healers."
Abraxas interjected with a happy laugh, "A secret, my dear. You can tell which families have truly never heard of a dentist by looking at their smiles. Do I look like a man who's never been to a dental office?"
Hermione squinted at his bright smile, "No… no you don't."
"Please, continue."
"Well, it's not the happiest story. I was always bookish and solitary as a girl, and it took me a few years to realize that's not exactly why parents have kids," Hermione said with the smile of one who'd come to terms with being a disappointment to her parents.
"I was a bit of a loner until Professor McGonagall showed up on my eleventh birthday. I think my parents were relieved to learn that I was going away in less than a year while I was frustrated with knowing I had a year before I'd know anything about the world I was supposed to be in. A year spent doing nothing but dreaming while children like Draco had magical tutors who prepared him for Hogwarts."
"Too right, Hermione… we'll touch on that soon. I won't apologize for being a nosy man- where are they now?"
"Well," Hermione breathed. "It's a bit of murky water, you see. I came home for Christmas my first year, and my mum was six months pregnant. Not that they saw it fit to share in any of their letters. After Henry was born, they were a bit cold, a bit distant. They got their bright, shiny child who wanted to spend time with them and take Disney vacations, er a muggle amusement park. He's a good boy, much more up to snuff of the upper middle class cookie cutter child than I ever was."
"Do you still see them?"
Hermione swallowed the still-present pain. "No, I don't. They had a fit in Flourish and Blotts my second year after Professor Lockhart added a ridiculous amount of his own books to our reading list. Your son might recall drawing even more attention to the scene they made by laughing loudly as I teared up. Long story short, they didn't understand why they were putting resources into an education they'd never see the fruits of, what with being cut off from our world. So they talked to Headmaster Dumbledore about turning custody of me over to a wizarding family who could actually invest in my education and know about what my future held."
Abraxas sat up straighter. "What, so they just left a twelve-year-old girl to fend for herself in a world they didn't know enough about to trust? Who took you in?"
"Thirteen-year-old girl," Hermione said drily. "No one, the headmaster put feelers out but no one was interested in taking a muggleborn into their family it seems. I became a ward of the school, I stayed at Hogwarts during the holidays and that was that."
"What a crock of shit! You'd think that man would learn from his mistakes," Abraxas fumed, standing up from the couch and pacing back and forth. "You aren't the first life he ruined, girl, and I'll be damned if you aren't the last."
"I'm fine, Brax. Really," Hermione said in what she hoped was a soothing voice. "I have a job, a flat and my cat. Would it have been nice to have a family, especially one who understands magic? Certainly, but that wasn't the case. I've moved on."
"You realize he set you up to fail? Just like another Hogwarts student he left to rot in an orphanage."
"Who?" Hermione asked with wide eyes.
"Not my story to tell, dear one. Have you ever asked your friends why their parents didn't take you in? Potter? Weasley?"
Hermione flushed and could only speak in a whisper. "No. They're… the only friends I've ever had. To ask meant to ascertain the basis of our friendship which I now know to be convenience and access to a walking library. I couldn't bear to know."
"You do realize that it's impossible to get a job in our world without the backing of a half or pure family?"
Hermione leveled him a look, "I was cleaning the loo at the only restaurant in the alley not serviced by house elves after getting the best marks in years, Brax. How would I not know?"
The subject of her ire raised his arms in placation, "Just asking, my dear. Why did your friends never step in on your behalf?"
"I could ask you a similar question; why are you so nice to me? Why are all of you so nice to me when Slytherin is the house of those who seek power, ambition and purity above all else?"
"Purity is a crock of shit, my sweet. With the boozing that goes on at balls and galas, a good third of the children born to pureblood women aren't actually related to the last name they carry. Power, though… power is might. You are powerful and worthy, Hermione. We all see it in you."
"Respectfully, that sounds like what anyone would say to placate the girl making 24k galleons a year while working overtime to support your legislative agenda."
The man shuddered, "How do you live on that pocket change? You let papa know if you need money, Hermione. Or a house. Or clothes."
"I'm fine, Brax," Hermione said with a peal of incredulous giggles.
"I'm not sure that's true, you're impoverished!"
"And I've been impoverished since I was 13 and handwashing my three pairs of knickers that the Hogwarts Fund for Indigent Boys and Girls provided since the elves came once a week to get our laundry. I'm okay; I've survived worse."
"I'd load you up and take you to my favorite spa right now if I wasn't certain my wife was already there," the man warned with a stern look.
"I'd rather meet her under circumstances where she doesn't assume I'm trying to take her place."
The man let out a loud laugh, "Nothing untoward here, dear. Just a man who was stuck with Lucius instead of the daughter he dreamed of."
"Sounds particularly disheartening, knowing Lucius as I do," Hermione said with a fake frown.
"Woe is me, indeed. Now, you must be starving. I can't imagine what cheese and crackers one is forced to consume on your meager income. Let's eat a real meal and discuss what this Disney park is."
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Hermione flicked her hand at the door, pleased at how she'd become proficient at a verbal, wandless door-opening spell over the past few months.
"Beautiful view, Hermione," a soft voice said. "I was just in another office where the only view was the Ministry atrium."
"Luna!" Hermione squealed, taking in the now tan skin of her beautiful, fairy-like friend.
"I've missed you," Luna beamed, squeezing the only girl she considered to be a friend close.
"Me as well," Hermione replied, sighing into the hug. She never knew how much she craved touch until she received it. "I thought you were getting back this weekend?"
"Daddy and I found the lilac mandioca much sooner than we thought possible," Luna smiled. "I made friends with a lobizon named Julio. He knew exactly where it was planted."
"You are amazing, Luna! Imagine the possibilities now that you've found it," Hermione breathed, knowing that the Amazonian rarity was referenced in countless potions recipes that have since been rendered obsolete without access to the plant.
"Professor Snape was quite pleased. I fancy that he even smiled at me, but daddy said it was probably the wrackspurts."
"What's ailed our dear professor?" Tom asked, Hermione jolting when she realized the man was leaning against his own door frame. The girl was helpless but to notice the fine line his legs made in his finely tailored pants, his shirt rolled up to his forearms so as to not stain them with ink.
"Only wrackspurts, they're quite common," Luna replied, unfazed by the new man's eavesdropping. "Hopefully now that he has lilac mandioca in his repertoire, he'll brew himself some peaceable punch and they'll disappear."
Tom smiled widely, "Ah, you must be Miss Luna Lovegood. I've heard so much about you from Miss Granger."
Luna returned the man's smile with a nod, "That is certainly my name for now, though I have someone to see about that. Would you mind if Hermione took me to see Draco?"
Tom's smile only grew as the man let out a chuckle, "You've exceeded my expectations, Miss Lovegood. Take your time, Hermione. I am no fool to mess with love when it's in the air."
Hermione rolled her eyes playfully as she put her outer robes on over her foam green dress, her relationship with her boss growing more and more friendly with every day spent together.
"Oh, and Deputy Minister… my grandfather would love to discuss an idea for deep sea fishing legislation with you, he'll be dropping you an owl."
"Wonderful, I look forward to hearing from him," Tom nodded and then stepped back behind his desk in an obvious dismissal.
Hermione couldn't help but giggle as she walked out. "What was that?"
Luna shrugged as she bounced happily down the hallway, "Sizing up your new man. Older men aren't my type, but he's quite handsome."
"Luna!" Hermione hissed, blushing as she looked around the veritable sausage fest that was the Ministry of Magic. "You can't say that out loud."
"You're the one sending letters to the Amazon about a boy you'd like me to marry, I think you have no room to talk."
Hermione had the decency to look sheepish. "He's really very sweet, much different than at Hogwarts."
Luna gave her friend a long look as they finally reached the lift. "I think you're the only person at Hogwarts who was actually sweet, Hermione."
"Lies!" the girl hissed, sliding into the blissfully empty elevator next to Luna. "Do you mind waiting in the hall while I go see Lord Malfoy?"
"No, I'll be just fine," Luna said with a smile as she hummed along to her own merry tune outside of the Malfoy suite of offices.
"Granger," Draco said with a nod and a smile.
"Is Brax in?" the girl asked, receiving a snort.
"He is," Draco said with the roll of his eyes. "You can go in if you promise to stop sweet talking my grandfather and trying to take my inheritance."
Hermione looked at the boy with all of the innocence she could muster. "I don't have to talk him into it, Draco, I'm just more likeable than you."
Abraxas looked up in amusement at the angry shout from his nephew. "My girl, what has my nephew done now?"
"I think he'd tell you to ask what I've done, and he doesn't know the half of it. Luna is home from the Amazon early and waiting in the hall. Would you like to meet her?"
"My sweetest girl," Abraxas crooned, standing up and pulling the girl into a paternal hug. "Let's bring her in and leave that awful boy in the dark for a while."
The frustrated and mortified squeak that Draco made as the door shut made Hermione the happiest she'd felt in years.
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"I will fucking AK the next person whose name is tied to a mistake in here," Tom muttered.
"What?" Hermione asked, looking up with wide, slightly crazed eyes. The man couldn't help but feel enamored by the girl's hair that has been growing frizzier by the hour.
"I said I was hungry," Tom replied. "It's past nine. Would you be terribly uncomfortable relocating to my place?"
Hermione contemplated for a second, knowing the implications of an older, powerful man inviting a younger, power-hungry woman over to his house (flat? manor?).
"Of course, sir. I could eat a hippogriff."
"We'll see what the elves are able to do," Tom said as he stood up and wandlessly collected the large stack of parchment that was currently occupying their minds and time.
"Wow," Hermione breathed as she stepped out of the Floo and into the living room of a plush, comfortable manor. "I feel like I'm stepping into my dream home."
Tom laughed warmly, possessively pleased with the girl's comment. "Is it? Hopefully the rest of the manor lives up to that expectation, this is only the Floo foyer."
"Yep," Hermione said, theatrically popping the p. "This is the perfect home… mansion."
"Manor, if you will," Tom said with waggling eyebrows. Hermione laughed in surprised delight at the man's joke.
"Is this an ancestral manor?"
"It is, Gaunt Manor. Inherited on my mother's side of the family," Tom said as he strode towards the dining room, the only space they hadn't peeked in yet.
"Well, it's beautiful. I'm sure it's lovely when the snow's falling," Hermione said with a sigh, staring out the windows at the half-frozen lake.
Tom smiled, "Winter's my favorite season as well. It's quite beautiful and the only time that unicorns have shown up."
Hermione clapped in delight, "Oh, how wonderful! Hagrid was supposed to show us unicorns during third year, but the centaurs put their foot, er feet, down…"
The man let out a bark of laughter. "That oaf is still teaching? Of all the dumb decisions that Dumbledore has made, that is tops. Good man, sure, but a professor? Not a chance in hell."
The girl beamed, "Oh, thank you! Harry told me I was a heartless bitch when I said the same. From the unfed hippogriffs to the nearly-hatched dragon eggs, he almost killed us at least twice. He isn't fit to teach."
Tom smiled appraisingly. He was pleasantly surprised to see a more logical, cold side of the girl who he knew to be sweet and emotional. Of course, he knew those instincts were there, but to hear her voice them out loud pleased him.
"We'll add that to our long list of reforms as we burn this world to the ground," the man said with a dark glint in his eyes. Hermione couldn't help but feel flushed at the timbre of his voice and all that his words insinuated.
"You is having to wait, Master! Is time for dinner," a tiny elf said as it peeked its head out from behind a large set of wooden doors.
"Raffy," Tom said in a soft voice with a smile Hermione would almost consider sweet. "Meet Miss Hermione Granger, my assistant."
The elf let out a squeak and stepped into the room. Her well-pressed tea towel had a large snake and skull pattern on it that looked very much out of place on the magenta fabric.
"You is keeping Master fed and saving the elves! We is thanking you, miss," the elf said with a beaming smile.
Hermione blushed at the elf's praise. "You are very kind, Raffy. I'm just doing my job, as much as you are."
"It's being late, let's get food in your bellies!"
The girl was extremely pleased at the fact that the food was already spread out on the table.
"Problem?" Tom asked, noting the girl's range of emotions. He would have to kill one of the kitchen elves if his girl was displeased and he'd take no joy in it. He loved his elves.
"No!" Hermione rushed out. "I'm… it's embarrassing, but I'm quite sick of the 11 course meals that everyone seems to serve in this world. They take three hours and I'm rarely ever full."
"Not embarrassing at all," Tom said slowly. "I'm happy to hear I'm not alone in that thought, it's one that crosses my mind every time I'm sat down wondering if I should poison someone so that dinner ends before cheese masquerading as dessert is served."
"Merlin, what a concept! Cheese is not dessert. Not now, not ever. I don't care if it's the fanciest cheese in the world, chocolate will always reign supreme. Let's move that up to the top of our list."
"I think we'll lose Brax on it, but I'm sure we'll get most other votes," Tom smirked. "I like how you said our list, Miss Granger."
"Call me Hermione," the girl said, fingering the rim of the wine glass that was in front of her. A sip of wine and she was feeling rather bold.
"Hermione," the man purred, sipping his own gin. "Then you must call me Tom while we're alone."
"Tom," the girl replied, rolling the word on her tongue.
"I've always hated the name, but it sounds good coming from your mouth."
Danger. Zone. The sirens in Hermione's mind were blaring, knowing she was getting far away from the propriety that a relationship with her boss should hold. Divert. Divert. Divert.
"Um… should we get started? I'm sure you have better plans than to spend the weekend reviewing this legislation."
"On the contrary, my dear. I am unfortunately all too aware of the sub-par legislation that I receive from other departments and set Friday deadlines only so I have a full weekend to rip it apart and put it back together."
"Not to wave a red flag, but if I knew how incompetent most ministry workers were when I was getting rejected left and right, I would be in Azkaban right now."
Tom smiled at the bloodthirsty and eager girl in front of him. "Isn't it better now when you can bring them to their knees and take them by the throats through legal means?"
"Oh, yes," Hermione said with a nod, keeping her eye on the sheet of parchment in front of her. "Though I have to say the list of those who I would rather see dead grows as I continue working. I probably shouldn't have said that, let's keep it between us."
"You have my complete discretion as always, Hermione. You know this. And I have to say I find your baser urges rather endearing."
The girl sputtered as daintily as one can. "Endearing? That's quite a word to sum up my blood lust, anger and embarrassment towards so many of the people we see everyday."
"Harness it, my girl. Never allow yourself to forget who has wronged you and bide your time until you can make them pay."
"Have you done that? Seek revenge on someone who's wronged you?"
"Many, many times."
Hermione's 50 followup questions were stopped as the sound of boots sounded in the silence of the manor. The girl tensed up, but relaxed when she saw that Tom was still calm.
"My apologies for interrupting your evening, my Lord," a deep voice sounded. A slightly flushed Corban Yaxley stepped around a tall shelf of historical records before he saw Hermione. "And I apologize for interjecting in your company as well. Nice to see you, Miss Granger.
"You as well, Lord Yaxley," Hermione replied with a small smile. She hid her surprise at the man's casual entrance into the manor, not having realized the pair was so closely acquainted. His use of lord was also cause for questioning in Hermione's mind, the girl knowing full well that the man was a half-blood and only had access to Gaunt Manor because he was the last of the line. She weighed whether or not it would be useful to question Tom on it or add it to the ever-growing list of suspicious happenings in the man's presence.
"Would you excuse us for a moment, Hermione?" Tom asked apologetically. "Tukkah is in charge of the Gaunt library and can procure any books you may need in my absence."
"Of course not, sir," Hermione replied, reverting to titles in the presence of another. "Hopefully I'll have finished by the time you're back."
"We can only hope," Tom said with a tight smile before leading the man out.
Hermione was finishing up their one page summary of the updated Muggle Magic Meat and More Marketing Agreement they'd just revised and felt the Deputy Minister would be pleased with her work. The legislation was a bit of a shit show to pull together, but the last update had been in 1988 before Fudge had been installed as Minister for Magic. After hearing from multiple farmers and supply chain procurement executives, they'd seen room to boost Tom's popularity and secure lower food prices for families across Britain. When it passed, 5M would be a win-win.
"Sorry for the delay, my dear," Tom said with an exaggerated sigh as he sat back down.
"No worries, Tom. I hope everything's okay," Hermione replied, pointedly not asking about what had happened although she was bursting to know what'd occurred. "I've finished revising the bill and worked up a section-by-section and one-pager. If you like it as is, I can work up talking points to distribute to our allies."
"Talking points?" the man asked with a raised brow.
The girl blushed slightly, "It's a bit from muggle politics. Allied MPs share talking points on legislation to ensure they're all hitting the same data points when speaking to their constituencies or press. For this bill, since it's so widespread, I thought we could divide up talkers by interest. Abraxas could discuss the economic impact, Rowle could discuss international relations, Black can discuss the farmworkers since he owns half of the Diagon Alley farmers market… I was even thinking we could convince a Prophet reporter to reach out to Professor Snape for his opinion as a potions master and he could share how the bill would make ingredients more readily available. These are all just thoughts."
Tom looked thoughtful for a moment, tapping one slender finger on his perfectly plush lips.
"Brilliant, my dear. Absolutely brilliant. Let's get you off to your flat, and we'll reconvene in the morning. You've done remarkably."
Hermione blushed bright red, feeling the praise light up her nether regions for what had to be the millionth time. What was it with her getting hot as her boss commended her mind? Something had to be wrong with her.
"Of course, sir. I'll await your owl."
"No need," Tom said with a lazy wave of his hand as he guided her back to the first floor Floo foyer. "The wards are reset, just pop in at 10am. The elves will serve breakfast and we'll get back to work. If you could owl the circle to be here by half one before you go to sleep, that would be most helpful."
"Will do, sir."
"Feed your cat, first, though. We wouldn't want him getting cross," Tom said with a wink. He watched the girl intensely as she Flooed out, standing there long after the fire settled and the room was quiet. The girl was smart and beautiful. How would he move past the boundary that was currently set in order to get her where he wanted her without tamping her ambition? Fuck 5M, he had real work to do.
Enjoy! Let me know what you think :) More soon! Asks and prompts are open on tumblr: .Com