Wednesday, May, 7th, 2003.
Blaise was in a furry. And late! He'd been at his company offices that morning, when one of his secretaries, Davis, had explained having an important appointment she couldn't reschedule at ten o'clock. Always the compassionate boss, he'd been agreeable and had exceptionally granted her an hour off work. A paid hour.
Now it was eleven forty five, and what had come back instead of her at eleven thirty, just when he'd been about to go, had been an owl.
The bitch quit her job, the appointment had been an interview. He couldn't believe it, he'd been tricked, again. His grand-mother's lectures came back to mind, as he finally went out his office at noon. Do never be nice. It's not your job to be nice, you are their boss. They need to know that. You can be compassionate, but you shall never do favours. Even in death she was right and he was wrong. Thank Salazar he was meeting Draco, and would be able to whine and complain freely for a moment. The lad had rarely anything to tell, he usually just drank and listened.
Hermione was sceptical. Even if apparently her previous receptionist had been a lazy bint, the one she'd just hired for a month trial, seemed to believe she had skills that were left to be shown. Hermione had received Tracey Davis and, trusting Astoria, she had decided to offer her to choose whether she preferred the assistant position, or the receptionist's.
The petite blond witch with severe eyes under rectangular glasses, and a constant frown, had seemed surprised. She'd then explained that she would be willing to do both. Hermione had insisted that the assistant position was demanding, and therefore couldn't be paired with the reception of the department, but Davis had insisted that she could very well charm notes to land in her office right away, and that it wouldn't be a burden to book appointments or sort the mail as well as it only took a minute. Hermione had been about to argue, but the determined look on her face had intrigued her, and she'd offered a trial instead.
If she proved able to do both, then she'd get both. If not, she could see the door. The witch had only answered:
"Fair enough. When do I start? If you allow me to send an owl I can start this afternoon."
Hermione had had to control her facial expression. Tracey Davis was definitely tired of her job. She'd accepted, and sent a note to Astoria:
That Tracey Davis is surprising. She's insisted on taking both vacant positions. Are you sure she's reliable?
The answer only took about two minutes.
I'm going down for lunch, join me to discuss it.
It was becoming a habit. One that Hermione started to appreciate.
Draco really needed his break. He'd ended up keeping his receptionist the previous day, figuring that two people fired under his nose had been enough for one day. But he'd started regretting it first thing in the morning. The stupid girl had mistaken appointments and he'd ended up getting ready to meet a potion shop owner when a herbologist had come.
When eleven thirty arrived he decided to go to the three broomsticks the muggle way. He needed the air. Blaise would be late anyway so he could take his time, and empty his head a bit.
Walking down muggle London wasn't his favourite thing, muggles were always in a hurry and bumped into each other all the time, but at least no one knew him there. He wasn't taking a big risk anyway, the Leaky Cauldron wasn't that far from his offices.
He reached the door fifteen minutes before Blaise and didn't order, even though the day's glasses looked a bit less blurry than the last time. When Blaise finally slumped down the stool next to him, Draco was ready to hang himself as always, but his impatience was forgotten instantly at the man's face. He was fuming.
"What's going on?" Draco asked.
"That bint Davis quit." Blaise scowled angrily.
"That's what you get when you bang everything that moves, I told you not to mix work and …"
"I didn't bang her! She tricked me! She said she had an important appointment and it was a bloody interview!"
"You let her go?" Draco startled.
"I didn't know and I was being …"
"Too bloody nice … What did you grand-mother always said?"
"Oh shut it. I know." He signed for Tom to pour them a drink, and mumbled, more for himself: "Should have fired that bitch a long time ago anyway, too ugly …"
"Oh! Speaking of that! I went to the ministry yesterday."
"So you trust her?" Hermione asked.
"To do her job yes. On a personal level not so much. She's a loner, she always goes for her interest. But if she's well paid and likes the job …"
"Right. I suppose we'll see how it goes. Thanks anyway."
"You're welcome. It's a win-win." Astoria added the last bit, her mouth stretching into a smirk. Hermione's curiosity couldn't be hold.
"How?"
"She hates her old boss and I am a bit mad at him myself." She said lowering her gaze to her watch.
"Oh, who is it?" Astoria grimaced:
"I'm late. Look, what do you say we grab a drink Friday night? I'll tell you all about it then. See you!"
Hermione was left behind completely taken aback. She received a note about five minutes after sitting back at her desk. Said note hadn't been sent personally this time, but with others Tracey had thought a priority. She'd labelled it "personal" though.
Hermione had sent her a report to copy and send to the department of mysteries, and also two letters to answer to. How the girl had managed to find the time to colour code her messages went beyond Hermione's imagination. She shook her head before reading:
- Let's meet Friday night at the Three broomsticks around 9 o'clock. I'd have planned something more fun but I'm in over my head with this new case and I always work late on Fridays. What do you say?
- 9 o'clock is perfect, I work late too.
That was settled. Hermione would go out on Friday night. All right the three broomsticks wasn't the trip of the year but very much like Astoria, Hermione didn't have time to plan something else. She had work to get back to.
"So what? Even then she didn't yell?"
"Nope. I told you she just fired them." Repeated Draco.
"Well they deserved it."
"Yes, and I would have kicked their arses too." Draco pushed. Blaise nodded approvingly, making his firewhiskey swirl in his hands. Then, he smirked:
"Must have been fun to watch."
"I was so surprised I didn't even laugh."
Blaise seemed to contemplate that and then said, his eyes staring blankly at his drink:
"Yeah, fierce little thing."
"I'd say sneaky. It was so out of character …" Draco still had trouble believing he'd heard such a tone from Granger.
"Yes, I would have pictured her yelling."
"Me too."
"But then I also thought she'd snap at the weasel for commemoration …"
"Yes that was disappointing." Draco approved. "Though she practically hid under her stool when he got on stage."
"Oh really? I didn't notice."
"You were busy. She even turned her back on Potter."
"Yes, that I saw." Blaise nodded. "I'd never thought it could happen though."
"Well if there's one thing where I'd side with her it's against those two idiots."
Blaise's smirk only grew.
"See yourself?" He mocked. "Siding with Granger. Twice. What's happened to you Malfoy?"
Draco rolled his eyes: "Shut up. She's annoying but it was too much then."
"You going soft." Blaise's smirk would vanish for sure. Draco was not going soft.
"Seriously? You were the one all worried because something's supposedly happened to her." He reminded Blaise.
"It has. Even Greengrass implied it." The lad answered, his face all serious.
"What does she know?"
"I don't think she knows anything but when she was drunk enough she said that it's not the first time Granger locks herself out of the world." Draco would berate himself later for his sudden interest.
"Meaning?" He asked.
"Meaning that she stays in her office and speaks to no one. Apparently it's happened twice before the divorce."
"So you think it had nothing to do with the weasel?"
"I'm sure of it. Plus, it's him, I mean, she has to be relieved." That he agreed to.
"Right, how she's gone through years with him is beyond me. I would have killed him the first day."
"The first hour. After making him all red and stuttering." Smirked Blaise.
"Yeah, shame she didn't do it for us."
"Well she might. He's got an interview planned for the daily prophet soon."
"No way. How do you know?"
"Rita."
"Oh the old bat. When did you see her?"
"Yesterday, but I need to go." He said, quickly glancing at his watch. "We'll talk about it … Say Friday night? Here?" He offered, standing from his stool.
"Nine?"
"Good."
And he was gone, leaving his almost empty drink on the bar. Draco couldn't believe they'd spent an hour talking about Granger. What was wrong with them?
Scowling, he started off to go back to work. Thinking of his receptionist made him want to hang himself. He'd wished for it twice that day. It couldn't be a good sign. Shrugging his next decision away, he turned left instead of right, and headed to the Ministry instead.
After all, he didn't have any appointments that afternoon, he'd checked for himself, and he still had to review the records. Plus, and he smirked for himself at the thought, he might have fun there.
Hermione had gotten back to work quickly and had found herself being interrupted only once by Davis.
"Miss Granger?"
"Yes?"
"I just received a complaint letter. Do I answer these too? Or do you want to review them first?"
"Complaint? About what?"
"About your lack of answer to complaint letters. Actually I found several of these in a drawer. All from the same man, Beetlebee."
"Beetlebee?" Hermione startled. "But it's a case I worked on two years ago! I never received any letters." Davis winced. "Oh my god. Tell me it's a joke." Hermione continued.
"I'm afraid it's not. It's nothing to worry about though, the initial complaint was about a letter received by mistake. I think the man is a bit … crazy."
"He is. He was in trial for blowing up a tea cup in a muggle street. He stated it had tried to kill muggles on Voldemort's behalf." Davis visibly shivered at the name but didn't say anything, so Hermione added: "I'm sorry, I forget sometimes."
"No trouble. Shall I answer him? Or would you like to do it yourself?"
"I guess it's better it if apologise myself. Would you bring them all to me?"
"Here." Davis accioed about twenty scrolls. Hermione couldn't believe Judith. That bitch. She should have kicked her arse before firing her.
"Tracey? Would you mind putting aside anything I asked you to do to check those drawers? I don't want another surprise like this."
"I'm half through it already." The witch smiled.
"Oh."
"Yes. I'll update if anything."
"Great, thank you." Hermione remained agape for a minute after she'd gone away. Tracey Davis was definitely something.
The letters were all the same, so she started her answer right away. When she was done, she went to the reception for Tracey to send it, and put the letters in the archives room.
"Any other surprises?" She asked. Tracey was at the last slack of drawers behind the desk.
"Just a very disorganised mess. I assume it's not your sorting system?"
"Nope. It's that messy?"
"It's … well I see no logical order to these papers. Most of them should be archived. The rest has just been thrown in there I think." Her constant frown was so deep Hermione wondered if her face could smooth again.
"Err … I'll help. Let's take a moment for that. You'll need me anyway."
"Yes, I'm sorry but I don't know half of these files …" Hermione shrugged:
"Well it's not your job to fix the mess. And your work will be much easier after. Let's start there, shall we?"
Draco stopped at the first pillar in the atrium. Scarhead and the weasel were waiting for the lift. There was no way in hell he was going to share with them. Unfortunately for him Potter spotted him and he had no choice but to walk forward. He'd look nuts if he stayed there.
"Malfoy."
"Potter. Ginger." He sneered. He didn't know why exactly he was starting but maybe Blaise's words of earlier had something to do with it.
"Ferret." The red git spat. He was already angry and it had only taken a word. Draco smirked his face out openly and from the corner of his eye, noticed Potter give a warning look to the purplish wanker.
"Where are you going anyway?" He still asked angrily. Draco couldn't resist. He waited until the lift stopped at Law Enforcement, opened the door and said:
"Visiting that dear Granger." He mirthfully articulated. He had time to catch both wanker's startled faces and widening eyes as the doors closed after him.
Satisfied, he turned around. Granger and her new receptionist had their back to him, and were surrounded by a gigantic mess of papers. Some were levitating above their heads, others were piling themselves on the desk, some others landing next to a very full rubbish bin. They didn't speak, the just perused papers from the drawers at the back of the desk, and waved their wands in unison. It was strangely mesmerising. Up until he recognised the new receptionist.
"Oh fuck it was you?" He snapped. Granger jumped so hard his surprise was crushed under a snigger.
"Malfoy?"
"You hired Davis?" Draco would have a lot to tell Blaise on Friday night for sure.
"Err … Malfoy. Great." Davis muttered.
"Why?" Hermione asked suspiciously. Tracey's reaction was odd anyway.
"She worked for Blaise until this morning." Explained Malfoy.
"Oh that's who Astoria …" Hermione shut her mouth the instant. She'd spoken too much. Malfoy's eyes widened in understanding.
"Greengrass. I should have guessed. He's not going to be pleased." Hermione didn't understand why he looked pleased then.
"Why the smile then?" She asked.
"Because it's going to be fun to tell him." A surprised chuckle left Hermione's mouth on its own volition. She couldn't believe Malfoy was responsible for that. Obviously he was as surprised as she. She spoke just when he opened his mouth to comment:
"Have fun then. I'm sorry but the archives will be inaccessible for a few days. You'll have to come back."
"Ah." Now he looked displeased. Though it didn't seem directed at her when he answered.
"I need to review these before next Wednesday." He seemed really bothered.
"You can come Monday. We should be done by then."
"All right." He was gone right after, his expensive cloak wavering behind him. Hermione turned to Tracey then:
"Blaise Zabini?" She asked, her disapproving frown only half sincere. The blond sighed:
"Well, being his secretary consists in reading his mail. That's it. Oh, and being pretty."
Hermione chuckled: "It's no surprise."
"Right. I was about to quit anyway but working for you is not an offer I could decline."
"Thank you. Let's stop for the day. Say we take two hours after lunch tomorrow and Friday to finish?"
"Should be good. I can keep going without you I'll just add a pile with things for you to look through."
"All right. I'll be with the Prime Minister until seven. Just seal the desk when you go."
"Okay."
On her way to Kingsley's office, Hermione thought that Friday night might be interesting. She'd seen Astoria with Zabini and Malfoy at commemoration, and there was no doubt as to why Astoria had sought revenge on him. His reputation preceded him. And Astoria was so sneaky it went beyond Hermione's imagination. Something was off though. She found it funny.
Oh and the hell to it she had the right to. She'd smiled more in the last few days that she had in months. The fact that former Slytherins kept being responsible for that was the oddest thing in the entire world, but it worked nonetheless. Why fight it?