Chapter 2

"Let's forget my obvious objections to this for a moment, because, I honestly have no words, but why in the seven hells would you want to be my campaign manager?" Hermione asked, not quite sure that she heard him correctly.

"Honestly, I am dreadfully bored," he quipped haughtily. "I thought this not having a job thing would be great, but it is quite a bit more difficult than it looks. Heavy drinking, sleeping the days away, shagging the hottest witches in Britain. It really does wear one out. Let's just say I'm looking for a change of pace," he droned as if he actually believed what he was saying.

"Uh huh," was the only response the petite woman could think of. "Last I checked, you weren't exactly the biggest supporter of muggleborns, why would you want one to be minister?" She asked suspiciously.

"Well Granger pie, things change. After the war, after seeing all the destruction that baseless prejudice brought, I realized I was wrong. What my parents taught me all those years was nothing but a load of shite, and I was just dumb enough to believe it. But I am not that boy anymore. That changed the moment my father forced me to get that horrible mark burned into my arm."

She couldn't deny that his argument was quite convincing, She knew that he had changed, She just really hadn't understood the why or how of it. She just figured he had matured out of his old beliefs.

"Okay," the witch started, "What makes you think you are qualified to manage my campaign?"

"Well what makes you think I'm not?" he challenged, his well practiced smirk still in place. "Granger dear, what makes you think you are qualified for minister? What is the basis of your campaign?"

"Change," she responded quickly.

"Uh huh, very original," he cracked, "change what exactly?"

"Everything," she said.

"Yeah Granger, real solid campaign promises there, signal number one that you need me." His raised eyebrows showed what he thought of her words.

"No. You don't get what I am saying," the woman elaborated. "We won the war, but really nothing has changed. Voldemort is gone, and that is an obvious victory, but the overall feeling in the wizarding world is exactly the same as it was before he came back. Sure muggleborns aren't openly hunted for sport, but we still hold a disproportionately low amount of jobs in the ministry and education, and don't even get me started on the Wizenmagot. If we don't change the societal conditions and underlying prejudice against muggleborns, then how can we really be sure that someone new won't come and take advantage of those just like Voldemort did?"

Hermione could have continued on for hours, but his cutting voice stopped her. "Granger!" he practically yelled.

"What?!" she exclaimed, "I know you still aren't all warm fuzzy and for muggleborns, but I thought you had changed just a little!"

"No Granger. he said "I think you have your campaign announcement."

"What do you mean?" Hermione said, eyes narrowed, "of course I do. It's sitting right here, half done," she said, gesturing to the half-full parchment.

"Not that tripe," he dismissed. "What you just told me. That should be your campaign announcement."

"I don't know Malfoy, don't you think it sounds a little too rough?"

"Exactly," he spoke softly. "That's what you have that the others don't. Listen, please let me just try this. I will draft an announcement based on what you told me and submit it tonight for tomorrow morning's Prophet. If it goes over well, hire me. You don't even have to pay me. I am just looking for something worthwhile to do with my time. If it doesn't go well, you can fire me and go on with your campaign like it didn't happen. Just please, give it a chance." His grey eyes held something akin to sincerity, far from the disgust and mirth usually found there.

"Okay," Hermione replied softly. "I'll keep my eye on the Prophet."

"Thanks Granger," he said, almost sounding relieved. "You won't regret it."