Chapter 2- Unfortunate Encounters

They arrived at the ministry a few seconds later, and Hermione marveled at the dark hall of the department of mysteries, a hall she had not once seen since her 5th year of Hogwarts. Her heart clenched at the thought of Sirius.

Draco cleared his throat, and she realized she had grabbed his hand in her haste when they apparated, and she let it go, tucking her hands into her robes. Her face glowed red immediately, and she hated that she let her walls down, even for a second. "Where to?" She asked, pretending nothing had happened.

He fought hard to hide his smile, and nodded towards the end of the hall, "To my office, I'll send some owls to some people who know more, and then we can discuss the situation."

She shifted her head, indicating she would follow him.

Draco Malfoy felt a little self-conscious as he noticed Granger looking around at the many rooms of his department as they walked towards his office. He had just began his current position, but after many years of shadowing the previous head, he knew the department like the back of his hand. He changed many things right away, but it still seemed gloomy, sad, and foreign. He didn't have the skills his mother had, she knew exactly how to make a dark and gloomy room look homely. He missed the manor. After losing his temper with his mother, he left the place in haste, and have been living in hotel by the ministry for a few weeks now. He felt terrible, but had no idea how to go back and apologize. Even with the many servants – no longer houseelves due to Granger's new rules - she must've been so lonely.

Granger remained quiet through the walk, and he was tempted so say something, anything, to break the silence. It's been a while since he interacted with someone he met at Hogwarts, and although she could be described as an 'enemy', it was kind of nice having her around. He was shocked when he saw her again, in the midst of the commotion. She's been all over the news recently, and many of his co-workers liked to gossip about her divorce when they thought he wasn't listening. He always hated it, the gossip, because it reminded him of his own divorce.

He married early, right after he graduated, and they knew right away they were not good for each other. She wanted him for the money, so he gave it to her, and told her to leave. He's had a few relationships here and there, but his love life was the same as his work and social life. Nobody wanted to interact with someone that was in the wrong side of the war. For the first time, he felt like an outsider. He didn't even want to think about how hard it was to get this position.

Thankfully, though, he was gifted with quick-wit, and he proved that he was competent and extremely good at his job. And after many years, the ex- head of the department appointed him as his successor, and his co-workers finally had to accept his skill and leadership. He could still hear them talking about him behind his back though, and could still see them flinch when he got too close. One day he decided enough was enough. He would no longer force them to try to accept him, and no longer try to settle down with someone. He would be alone, and it was fine with him, he was already used to it. The most important thing for him now is doing his job. He did a lot of harm to the world during his youth, a world he was now going to try to fix.

As he glanced back at her once more, he smiled sadly at her bright and fierce gaze as she studied her surroundings. Even as kids, he always felt like Granger had a purpose, she was always aiming for something, aiming to change things, to be the best. And she was the best.

During the days at Hogwarts though, when his dad was still in charge, he resented her. It didn't matter if he got all E's on his OWL's, as soon as he set foot back in the manor, the first question he got from his father was always his place compared to other students. And he was ashamed to tell him, once more, than he was second yet again. Hermione Granger, a mudblood, with no wizard blood or any prior learning, had beaten him once again. The results were disastrous. Sometimes, he would still dream about the cane, and the whip, and the potions. All the things his father would use on him, to show him that he would respect his blood, his tradition, his heritage. He still had scars that spread all over his back, scars that would never heal, due to some dark magic performed by his father.

And all of this, all of these dark disturbing thoughts haunting his head, he could never say out loud. Heck, he had no one to say it to. And he's learnt to deal with it.

He stopped in front of his office, still lost in thought, and Granger cleared her throat behind him. "Are we here…?"

"Oh, yes, hold on." He murmured a spell, and the door creaked open slowly, revealing a dimly lit room, large in appearance but filled with furniture. They entered, and were surrounded by couches in many colours, and a long dark mahogany table at the far end of the room, with paperwork sorted in several neat piles. Bookshelves surrounded the entire table, filled with books in various languages, textures, and diverse magical backgrounds. Draco noticed Granger smiling, and he felt a little flattered.

"Welcome to my humble abode," He said, bowing dramatically and smirking.

"I'm impressed, Malfoy. Looks like somewhere I'd be okay with working in. In fact, it's way better than my office. It's always on the prophet, so everything has to be gold and silver and in the right place. It doesn't even look like anyone works there."

"No one really comes to visit the department of mysteries, we only get inspections once in a while, so I let my workers decorate how they want, too." Hermione nodded, looking a bit puzzled she found herself agreeing with him.

"It's very different, our jobs." She commented, her voice trailing away as she studied the books on his many shelves.

"Sit anywhere, I'll write the letters and they'll come by soon, my staff's not busy today." She nodded, and he sat at his table, taking out blank parchment and quills. He licked the tip of the quill, and began to write, but was distracted by her movements as she walked around the room. How did Granger even end up as the minister? She's competent and intelligent, but too… stubborn, young, and a little… childish? There's no denying it though. She's the smartest. No one could do the job better, even I voted for her.

She glanced at him, and he hurriedly went back to his parchment, staring at the still blank page. "Malfoy," She said cautiously, "I know I should already know this but…"

He chuckled, and interrupted, "You want to know what we do at the department of mysteries?" She nodded quickly, eager for the information but still a little embarrassed at having to ask.

"We do many things. Mainly the maintenance of pensives. But it's the idea of things civilians don't need to know, dark magic so twisted it would only scare the public."

"No wonder they asked you for the job, you know all about dark magic." He glared at her, and she laughed. Finally, she sat down. With a wave of her wand and an incantation, a steaming cup of tea appeared, and she glanced at him, "Would you like one?" He nodded, transfixed, as she waved her wand again.

They sipped on their tea in silence while Draco wrote on the parchment, and Draco, still distracted by their conversation, blurted out, "Granger, do you still see me that way?"

She lifted her head from her cup, and though she knew what he meant, replied, "What way?"

"As a death eater, conjurer of dark magic. Killer of fellow wizards." He waved his hands dramatically for emphasis.

"Why does it matter if I still do? You hate me," she said stubbornly, "you haven't proven anything to me that tells me you're not still trying to kill muggle-borns, or still plotting something. I'm not sure if you've noticed but we've never even had a real conversation. You might even be behind this whole thing, trying to finish the trio once and for all." Her face fell, she regretted it as soon as it left her mouth.

He gaped at her at first, trying to comprehend the sudden confrontation. The he felt his anger rile up, and he stood up, glaring at her, "Why are you even here then? If you think I'll kill you at any moment? Just leave!" He slammed the table, and tea spilt all over the parchment, "I won't be of any help to you anyways."

"I can't." She said, her voice so soft he almost couldn't hear.

"Why?" He gritted his teeth, and crossed his arms. He was tired of this, so tired of it. He knew he made horrible, gruesome choices in the past, but enough was enough. He was tired of the looks. He was tired of the whispering. He was tired for the blatant disregard for what he had to say. He wanted to be able to look at someone in the eyes and not see doubt, and fear. It was actually great, he thought bitterly, that he finally had someone say it to his face out loud. He could finally release his pent up frustration.

"Because I don't have anyone else left," She said, her voice the faintest of whispers. And with that, she burst into tears in front of him in his office. He immediately felt all the anger and frustration pour out of him, and the only thing that remained was hollow emptiness, and utterly miserable sadness.

He sat back down, trying to avoid her gaze, and put his head in his hands. He fought the pull of his body, urging him to please, please, stand up, walk over to the crying girl in his office, and put his arms around her. It's a principle he's lived by since he finally stood up for this mother and destroyed his father, to never, ever, see someone he cared about hurt in front of him. Cared about? That wasn't true at all.

It was funny, because he was probably the last person in the world she wanted to see her break down like this. And even if he stopped being a coward and stood up to comfort her at this very moment, she would feel hatred, repulsion, maybe even disgust. And so there was no point.

Hermione wiped her tears with her sleeves, and said gently, "I should go. It's been a really bad day, and this obviously isn't working out. I'll contact the other aurors. I'll figure it out. Thank you for all your help so far." She waved her wand, and her half-drunken tea as well as the one he spilt on the table vanished in an instant.

She reach the doorknob, and he looked up from his hands, closed his eyes tight to calm the nerves, and said, "Wait." She turned expectantly, waiting for him to continue. "It doesn't have to be this way, Granger. I don't know how to prove that I'm no longer your villain but, since we've literally only got each other, we've got to make this work. I don't care if it bothers you to be in the same room as me. We need to get this shit done, rescue the boy who is hopefully still living, and then live our separate lives, okay?" She sniffed once, and nodded carefully, still considering his offer. "No talking about the past, no emotions, only professional business."

She laughed softly, her face glistening from the hurriedly wiped tears, "We've sucked at that so far."

He chuckled, relieved, "Indeed."

She walked up to him, warily, and stopped right in front of desk. Draco stood, and they faced each other across the table, two wizards with the furthest possible backgrounds, with a string tied between them that could break at any moment. They were only a few feet apart, but it felt like a distance Draco would never be able to cross. He was about to break contact when she raised her arm slowly, reaching exactly halfway the distance between them, "Deal."

The darkness that surrounded him at every moment faded a little, and he reached out to make his part of the distance, and shook her hand firmly.

They couldn't help but start laughing.