Hermione found herself staring wide-eyed at the ceiling fan of her bedroom, quietly contemplating all of the events of the night. She had never considered herself a woman of such little value to pine after a man who obviously wanted so little of her. But with the fallout of her relationship with Ron, her life had taken a solemn and lonely turn somewhere around twenty three.
Five Years Prior
She had a successful job working for the Ministry of Magic in the Department for International Cooperation - focusing specifically on International Diplomacy and aid ventures for countries with lower Wizarding populations, and unstructured policies in the realms of magical law. In the early years she traveled frequently, often for weeks at a time - a rather humble reprieve from the lonely bitterness of her failed venture of love and happiness with Ronald. For every week that she was gone, it was one less chip in shattered clay pot she once called her heart.
It was on a particularly grueling trip to Johannesburg that she had inevitably come to realize the true depth of despair she had so meticulously been avoiding. It had been 8 years since the end of the apartheid, and 6 months since the end of her engagement to Ron. The South African magical government was struggling more than ever to both accrue capital and manage their recently integrated and growing magical community. Wizards descendant from the early Belgian settlers had a much more antiquated idealism for how their government should operate. All of the conflicting views had done nothing for the economical progression of the community — which is how the Ministry of Magic came to be involved.
Hermione had been stationed primarily in Johannesburg, a mere 3 kilometers from Grijs Lèige the magical community there. She had been provided a small room at a local inn, with an armoire, a bed and a desk. And every morning she'd dress smartly and walk the 3 kilos to a ministry approved apparition point — immediately finding herself surrounded by the local wizards and witches of Grijs Lèige as she walked determinedly to the Bureau of Magical Affairs. She'd stalked up the marble steps at least a dozen times before during her stay. Yet as she reached the main doors, the collected frame of the man at the large entrance was one she hadn't seen in the flesh since the battle of Hogwarts. He hadn't spotted her yet, and Hermione could do nothing but stare as her pulse quickened with unease.
There was stubble on his face she'd noted. On most men Hermione felt it unprofessional to be anything other than clean shaven and or neatly trimmed. And yet somehow he pulled it off. His platinum hair sported a never before seen short and shaven cut with longer parted and combed fringe at the top. He was dressed in a steel grey suit that accentuated the grey of his eyes. Despite her approval of his attire, the way his lips set in a hard line was the only reminder she needed to brace herself for the inevitable deluge of berating words that were sure to pour from his lips like honey laced poison. Her shoulders stiffened as she braced herself—walking now with purpose, and a hope that he wouldn't see her as she snuck past the entrance way. Why was he here? She wondered with incredulous ire crackling beneath the surface of her skin.
"Hermione! Good Morning." She cringed inwardly as she turned to look behind her down the steps. Ewan Collings waved happily at her as he pulled a bagel from his lips. While on most days Hermione appreciated the South African Bureau's Assistant Treasurer's kind hearted ways during government meetings and treasury inquiries...today was not one of those days.
She smiled at him nervously. Moments later she felt the cool presence of a familiar if not unwanted body as none other than Draco Malfoy came down the steps to stand beside her.
"Fancy seeing you here Granger." He drawled, little amusement in his tone.
"Why are you here? Only Ministry approved officials have been granted entry into the South African Bureau's wards of jurisdiction. And last I remember, you were no more than a freed war criminal."
"Rather harsh, even for you." He replied, lips pressed in a hard line as Ewan approached the two of them happily.
"Ah, you must be Mr. Malfoy! Pleasure!" Ewan dusted his buttery hands on the side of his slacks before extending a hand in Malfoy's direction. Hermione watched in surprise at the exchange, not at all surprised however at Malfoy's curt nod as he pocketed his hands deep into the pockets of his suit pants rather than shake the mans hand in return.
"Ah well...there'll be more time to acquaint ourselves surely." Evan rambled. Hermione barely had a moment to gather her thoughts before they were pressing at the forefront of her mind with blinding clarity. She stared inquisitively at Ewan— the man knew something she surely did not, and it was beginning to give her a rather unpleasant tension headache.
"I apologize Ewan, but you were expecting Mal — I mean Mr. Malfoy?" She asked rather curtly.
"Granger you aren't the only Ministry Official who's been granted access for this project. My approval just so happened to be rather delayed — international jurisdictions and all. I'm sure you understand." Gone was the usual scathing cadence of his voice, replaced by drawling impatience. Hermione's eyes blazed with the million questions biting her tongue.
"Right." Hermione responded. Her blood was beginning to boil.
"Oh yes! Mr. Malfoy was brought on as a financial consultant by the Ministry some weeks ago. He's to be assisting our project, specifically with the Department of the Treasury." Ewan beamed again, and Hermione wanted to the hex the enthusiasm out of him —Malfoy was not one to be enthusiastic, Ewan would surely learn in time.
"This has been rather enjoyable but I was brought here for a job. Shall we begin?" Ewan nodded aggressively as he lead Malfoy up the steps toward the atrium. Hermione followed sluggishly behind.
The day had been a blur. And Hermione had accomplished little as all she could concentrate on was the fact that Draco Malfoy had suddenly appeared and was her new co-worker. Within a matter of hours her world had been turned completely upside down.
By the end of the day, she was exhausted. She collected her things and headed out of the Bureau with nothing on her mind but to write her Department Head about the lack of communication on their end about the Ministry's new financial consultant. She'd just reached the block where the inn was located when she heard her name being called behind her. An uneasy sense of Deja Vu overcame her as she turned.
"Granger...Hermione I mean." Malfoy was a bit out of breath. Not in an unfit way, but in a way that suggested he'd been attempting to catch up to her for some time. She eyed him apprehensively.
"I just. I'm aware that my arrival wasn't expected. It was rather short notice." The familiar drawl was gone. And his eyes held a bit of something foreign to her. Curiosity maybe?...a wild notion.
"It is not your job to notify Ministry Officials of changing plans and/or projects. That is not your burden to bear." She sighed miserably, clenching the bridge of her nose.
"No it isn't. But I apologize all the same." Hermione looked at him then, gone were the pointed cold angles of his features. Replaced with full lines and and angles that suited him rather well. His eyes weren't cold but searching. She nodded curtly.
"You can say no, but as we'll be stuck here for another three weeks as partners. How would you fancy a beer?" Hermione had been shocked by his question. Who was this man? He was clearly not at all the boy she once knew in her adolescence. She was wary, and a voice in her head screamed at her to say no. But something about his eyes had her nodding curiously at him. And ten minutes later she'd unexpectedly found herself seated aside him at a local bar, beers in hand as they caught up. His eyes sparkling as they reminisced over years past and loved ones lost.
Five years later and Malfoy had somehow managed to weasel his way into her affections. Nothing more, nothing less. That first work trip was difficult but the olive branch he'd extended could not have been denied. Next it was a month long stint in Peru where he dazzled the locals with his incredible Spanish, and his knowledge of muggle fútbol. The more time Hermione spent around him the less she hated the idea of tolerating him. And then they'd returned to London and he'd become as elusive as he'd been before his reappearance into her life.
They were...sort of friends suddenly but not so suddenly at all. And by the four year mark it was a trip to the jungles of Costa Rica. A drunken night trapped in a torrential downpour in wizarding San Jose, that she made the biggest mistake of her life after obliviating her parents. She kissed him.
It was hot and wet and blood boiling all at the same time. One kiss in Costa Rica, turned into two more 6 months later in New York. By the time the new year rolled around on her twenty seventh year she knew she was in over her head.
They were on hiatus now for 4 weeks before leaving on a trip to Cuba. And Hermione cherished the rare elusive moments of comfort in her flat, boy shorts and all. She sighed heavily as she now turned in bed, closing her eyes finally as the tension of the night escaped her. She thought of the drunken man currently outstretched on her pullout sofa and smiled. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she'd missed his company.