Disclaimer: I obviously own nothing, not a thing! J.K. Rowling, on the other hand, owns my soul.
Chapter 2 – The Beginning
June, 2002
Hermione Granger had once read somewhere that things change, but people ultimately don't. She couldn't help but be grateful that this was true, at least in Ron Weasley's case. She sat across from him, distracted from her reading by the disgusting slurping sounds he made as he inhaled his baked beans breakfast.
"Are you going to stop for breath at any point?"
Ron looked up from the Muggle comic book he was flicking through (a recent fascination by Arthur) and shrugged before slurping again at his spoon. "What? I'm hungry."
Hermione smiled when she noticed the colour of the beans matched Ron's hair perfectly. She hadn't been back to the Burrow in weeks due to an increased workload at the Ministry, but it was her second home.
"It's eerie when your house is this quiet," she commented after awhile, dog-earring and setting down her book (a romantic tragedy written by a Muggle playwright).
Ron agreed, looking a little glum.
The Burrow was strangely empty save for Ron on this particular day. Molly had left quite early to visit Andromeda and Teddy Tonks, Charlie had been back in Romania for three weeks and Ginny was training hard for the Holyhead Harpies' next Quidditch season. The Weasley family clock in the living room showed the three hands of Arthur, Percy and George pointing to "Work".
Hermione found it altogether strange to be at the Burrow without having to shout to be heard. In the quiet, asides from Ron's eating noises, Hermione allowed herself to think back to the first time she had stayed at the Burrow. The thought made her smile, but it was short lived and faded slowly.
Sure, people may not change, but things had definitely changed over the past four years since the Battle of Hogwarts and the end of Voldemort's reign.
Saddened, Hermione's eyes flickered to the Weasley clock. Fred's hand had been stuck on "Lost" for the past four years.
Every 2nd of May, she had cried alongside with Ginny on the yearly anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. She had cried for Fred, who never got to turn twenty-one years old. She cried for Remus and Tonks at their love taken too soon, and she had cried for Teddy, who'd grow up never knowing his parents. She had cried herself hoarse at the injustices of hate every year since.
Four years had passed since the Final Battle, and Hermione felt older and wiser, but the pangs of sadness and the nightmares gripped her often.
"What time are you supposed to be at the Ministry?"
Hermione shook her head to clear them of depressing thoughts and she stopped to think before she answered Ron.
"I'm head of the department, Ron," she grinned winningly. "I don't have a clock in or out time. However, it's good you reminded me, I'd almost forgotten I had to go."
Kissing Ron on the forehead and chuckling at his grumbling, Hermione bade her best friend goodbye and Floo'd to her apartment, which was located in Muggle London. Changing out of her jeans and jumper quickly, Hermione cursed when she realised she truly was late.
Dressed ten minutes later in a sensible baby blue blouse, grey pencil skirt and a matching jacket, she was ready. Grabbing her cloak and a heavy folder full of parchments from her desk, she walked down the short hallway of her apartment to a doormat sitting just inside the door.
The few visitors she had had over to her apartment had commented as to why she had a doormat on the inside of her apartment, but it served its purpose. The small rectangle of space was the only place that a witch or wizard could Apparate to and from her apartment; an Anti-Apparition Jinx was in place and covered the rest of her living space.
Hermione was once again glad for having the authorisation and the privilege to have a personal Apparition point directly into the Ministry of Magic. Considering how often she was at work and the late hours she kept, Hermione knew that the telephone boxes would drive her insane eventually.
Eager to start the day, she Apparated with a loud crack.
.
.
Hermione's day began as they usually did for her; filled with report reading and parchment signing.
Hermione, the current department head of the Department of Research and Growth, was the second youngest witch to earn such a prestigious position at the ministry. She was only second to Harry Potter who became head of the Auror department when he had turned twenty-one the previous year after Gawain Robards retired.
D.R.a.G. (or 'Drag' as Ron had taken to calling it) was currently the newest department to form in the Ministry of Magic under Minister Shacklebolt's guidance, and it was also the second largest, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement being the first.
It was Hermione's brainchild, and like any parent, she was so very proud of D.R.a.G.'s achievements and success. The number of employees under her was roughly numbered at forty, with a few contractors here and there, and it was busy – always busy.
Hermione had seen the painful processes that Ministry officials had to undertake in order to compile research for cases. As an ex-Auror, she had hated having to go on a wild goose chase every time she collated information on the remaining Death Eaters and the cases against them.
She had personally approached Minister Shacklebolt with a proposal; to create a new department that was solely centred on the collection of information, filing them in an effective and efficient system and providing them to the different internal departments at the Ministry. D.R.a.G. had quickly become the Ministry's go-to for wizarding information and the department had subsequently expanded to become an umbrella for research and potions testing.
Hermione sighed and pushed back from her desk when she saw it was nearly lunchtime. She usually had lunch with Harry unless they were flooded with work. Slipping on her heels under her desk, she picked up some paperwork Harry had requested earlier in the week and headed for her best friends' office.
Fortunately for Hermione, Minister Shacklebolt hadn't known where to slip the Department of Research and Growth in the grand scheme of things. Kingsley had placed it under the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, alongside the Aurors, Hit Wizards, the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts and Improper Use of Magic departments. This meant that she worked on the same floor as Harry, and it took her less than a minute before she approached where the Auror offices began.
One hallway from Harry's office, Hermione caught sight of something that had her instinctively diving behind a large trolley of reference journals and pulling out her wand.
The man waiting patiently in the Auror department's waiting room had platinum blonde hair that could only mean it was the Malfoy heir.
Frowning at her instinctive behaviour, Hermione paused to think. She resheathed her wand in her jacket. Merlin, she thought. Did I really expect a fight? Here?
She peeked around the trolley again and stared at him, chewing on her lower lip in consternation. He looked entirely normal, bored even, and not at all uncomfortable in one of the plastic waiting room chairs.
Hermione cast about her mind, wondering when it was last since she had laid eyes on the tall thin form of her childhood rival. She couldn't be sure but it had to have been some years at least. After the Final Battle, maybe? Or maybe it had been during his family's trials before the Wizengamot.
She had frequently read articles in both the Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly that spotlighted on either Malfoy Enterprises or Malfoy's love life gossip, but Hermione had never been interested.
Hefting the heavy stack of parchments in her arms, Hermione continued to covertly stare. He looked… well.
His hair was longer than she'd ever seen it, hanging low over his forehead so that he constantly had to brush it out of his eyes, and long enough at the back that it was tied in a small ponytail. He was dressed impeccably, as she would expect any Malfoy. To her surprise, he was wearing a navy Muggle suit under his robes, matched with a black tie and shiny black shoes. The familiar bored expression on his clean-shaven face made Hermione frown, wondering what he was doing there.
Hermione wasn't sure how long she'd been cowering behind the trolley of reference journals. She watched Malfoy frown slightly, scratch at the back of his neck, and glance around him. Realising he could feel he was being watched, Hermione backed away slowly, dashing back to her office and instead taking the long route to Harry's.
"Harry! What's Malfoy doing here?" she cried breathlessly as soon as she burst into her best friends' office.
Harry looked up and smiled when he saw her. "All right, 'Mione?"
"I'm fine, but seriously, why is he here?"
"Saw that did you?" he raised a dark eyebrow at her, but didn't explain further.
Huffing, Hermione plonked herself ungraciously in one of the chairs across from Harry's desk. She stared intently at the green eyed man before her, eyebrow cocked, willing him to spill the beans.
Harry chuckled at that. "You know I can't discuss Auror business, Hermione."
"Even to an ex-Auror?" she asked hopefully. "Oh Harry, I've only been off the department for two years – cut me some slack!"
"It's Auror stuff, you know the rules," Harry reminded her, glancing back down at the folio he was reading.
Knowing about the oaths Aurors took well, Hermione pouted. "Fine, but don't think I'll stop pestering you. Here's the reports you requested on Monday," she said petulantly, placing the large stack of parchments on the end of his desk.
Harry wasn't the same since the end of the war. Sure, he looked the same – the same piercing green eyes, unruly black hair. He even wore the same round-framed glasses from Hogwarts even though Hermione insisted he could go to St. Mungo's to get his vision fixed.
Physically, Hermione couldn't see much of a difference, but mentally and emotionally, Harry had changed dramatically. He still had the same sense of humour that matched Ron's so well, but there was a darkness in his eyes that had Hermione reaching for his hand often.
Her best friend was prone to heavy silences and on more than one occasion he had zoned out of their conversation completely, lost in a place in his mind where he was reliving memories and remembering the dead.
Harry had announced two weeks previously that Ginny was pregnant with their first child, due to give birth sometime in December. Hermione hoped that the birth would bring back the spark in Harry's eyes; it had been too long since she had seen him laugh freely.
"How's Ginny?"
At the mention of his wife, Harry's smile widened. "She's doing well. She's refusing to skip out on training, however, and she'll finish off this Quidditch season before she goes on maternity."
"Molly mustn't be pleased."
Harry's smile grew wider. "She's been over at our place every day for the past week trying to convince Ginny, but she isn't budging."
Hermione was silent for some time, her curious brain still itching to know what Malfoy was doing here. Was he in trouble? Probably. Hermione had always thought a Malfoy's middle name was either 'trouble', 'git' or 'prat' and she wouldn't be surprised if Draco Malfoy had all three.
"He's here to see me, of course." Harry murmured after a lengthy pause, watching her from the corner of his eye.
"Oh come on, Harry!" Hermione burst out. "You can't tell me that and not everything else."
Chuckling, Harry only shook his head. Even after all these years, he still marvelled at Hermione's need to know everything. It wasn't because she was a gossip, it was just… Hermione. Just Hermione. "Sorry, 'Mione. I'm under oath anyway."
Pouting, Hermione stood to leave. "Fine, but I'm seeing Ginny tomorrow for lunch. Don't think you're getting out of this scot-free!"
"Chin up, you're not going to die if you don't know."
Rolling her eyes, Hermione finally conceded, accepting defeat. "The next time you request information from my department, I'll make sure you dive through hoops of fire before you get it," she warned teasingly, watching as Harry's smile widened.
Hermione couldn't blame Harry – she understood the demands of being an Auror after being one for two years. In some ways, it was like being an Unspeakable. You weren't allowed to discuss anything pertaining to any ongoing cases to non-Aurors and the barriers of confidentiality that had frustrated Hermione years earlier still frustrated her now.
Wishing Harry a good day, Hermione strolled wistfully back to her office. Instead of going out to lunch, she asked her personal assistant Viri to bring back a sandwich for her and it wasn't long before Hermione drowned herself in the mountain of paperwork that littered her desk.
Busy as she was, Draco Malfoy's sudden appearance in the Auror's office stuck with her throughout the day like a fly caught in a spider's web.
If Hermione was surprised at seeing Draco Malfoy at the Ministry, she would be even more shocked when three days later Viri informed her that the very same man was requesting a meeting with her for that afternoon.
Curious beyond belief but unsure as to why he would seek her out, Hermione resolved to be cold and unflinching.
"Mr. Malfoy," she said stiffly when he entered her office. She had made him wait an extra ten minutes after their due appointment time just to annoy him. Hermione resisted the urge to greet him as 'Ferret', but she was adamant in maintaining her composure.
"Miss Granger," he replied politely in turn, seating himself elegantly in one of her office chairs.
She stared at the man before her. Here he was, the person responsible for Dumbledore's death, for the deaths of multiple of her classmates and the ensuing heartache.
A niggling voice in the back of her mind argued what Harry told her many years ago, that Dumbledore's death was inevitable, but at that moment Hermione didn't care. She stared him down, animosity evident on her face.
Clearing her throat, Hermione made a show of putting away several reports before she spoke. "What do you want?" she asked rudely.
Eyeing her open door, Malfoy pulled out a thin folder from his briefcase. "I'd like to propose a… business agreement with you, Miss Granger."
Hermione was instantly on alert. She narrowed her eyes at him, not reaching to take the proffered folder he was holding out.
"What kind of business arrangement?" she asked suspiciously.
"I am unsure how well versed you are with my family's company, Granger, but the short of it is that we are expanding at a rapid pace." Draco paused and removed two more pages of parchment from his briefcase.
"I hope to expand into Muggle enterprises by the end of the year."
Blinking in confusion, Hermione stared at him. "Why?"
"Again, to put it simply, it will make the company millions of Galleons," he said, and Hermione could detect the slight annoyance he felt in his voice.
"But why?" she challenged, an ugly sneer appearing on her face. "You hate Muggles. You hate everything to do with them and you loathe Muggleborns. This is the Mudblood speaking, remember?"
Malfoy stiffened at her words, eyes flashing. "That is none of your business. The business proposal I am presenting you with involves one thing and one thing only. I require my company's contracts rewritten, to adhere to Muggle law and terminology."
"Why don't you just command one of your drones to do that for you?" Hermione, still clearly suspicious, wasn't giving an inch.
Malfoy exhaled a sigh and sat further back in his chair. "They told me you would be difficult," he glared at her. "I know you wouldn't just take this proposal on face value, Granger, but I have something to offer you in return."
Confident he had no such thing, Hermione raised her chin in challenge. She inwardly prepared to shoot him down, to give him a flat out no. Then she could get back to the financial reports she had been poring over before he nonchalantly walked into her office.
"I have… received news that you want to publish a book. A book about the Ministry," Malfoy stated slowly, his cold gray eyes glinting.
Her composure cracked and Hermione gasped. "How do you know this?"
"I have also been told that this venture has not been endorsed by the Ministry," He continued, ignoring her question. "Therefore you have no funding to make it a reality."
"I – How did you find out about this?" Hermione cried, aghast, an angry flush creeping up into her face.
Malfoy smirked at her. "So you don't deny it?"
"I –" Hermione spluttered.
It was true. Hermione had been looking to publish a book on the history of the Ministry of Magic for some time now. She had her initial research thanks to D.R.a.G., but getting personal interviews from Ministry officials were proving to be difficult. Not only did it hamper her progress but also Hermione hadn't thought about how much money it cost to actually write and publish a book.
"I'll back your venture financially, and in return you write up the contracts for Malfoy Enterprises."
"This is – this is extortion," she hissed at him. Hermione was glad her heavy oak desk separated them; otherwise she'd have throttled him by now.
Malfoy scoffed in disdain. "Hardly. It's a business agreement that holds benefits for both parties."
"Like I asked earlier, Malfoy. Why."
"Why? Or… are you perhaps really asking why you."
"Well the latter is more pressing but both are legitimate to ask." She was still reeling from the shock of seeing him but Hermione wasn't called the brightest witch of her age for no reason.
"To the former, it's like I said and I hate to repeat myself." He glared at her from across the table, his jaw clenching in irritation. "To the latter, I find myself in need of a … Muggleborn who understands Muggle law and can apply it to business contracts."
"I don't like to repeat myself either, Malfoy. I'm sure you have plenty of employees more than capable of the job."
"Yes, who have all turned out to be incompetent toads," he gritted his teeth.
Hermione got the feeling she wasn't the first person he'd approached for his task. She stared appraisingly at him for a full minute, trying to see past the ulterior motive.
"I'm sure you can understand why I'm so reluctant here, Mr. Malfoy." Hermione returned his penetrating gaze with a cold one of her own.
"No, I don't really. So, please if you may, tell me why this wouldn't work out."
"I haven't seen you in years –"
"It was more like two."
"This business proposal is highly suspicious –"
"Only because you're being childish," he interrupted.
"… because of the fact that you can actually think to work with Muggl—"
"I'm an opportunist after a—"
"And you just march into my office and slap down this offer in my face as if we were old chums." Hermione finished angrily, twin spots of pink appearing on her cheeks.
"Firstly, Granger, I don't march," he said arrogantly, tossing his head. "A Malfoy does not march. Secondly, I did no slapping to speak of and thirdly, I should have expected this stubborn Gryffindor idiocy from you."
She glared at him. "You know for someone who supposedly needs my help so badly, you don't look like you're trying hard enough to warrant my cooperation."
"Well I'm certainly not going to beg you for this," he sneered. "This is a simple business transaction. I provide you with funding for your book, the salary you forego with its research and the printing and marketing costs, and you in turn write my contracts."
"I'm still trying to find the catch in all of this," she replied, eyes narrowed in suspicion and dislike.
"Excuse me?"
"Don't forget I went to school with you, Malfoy. You're a prat, you're ex-Slytherin and you value self-preservation and personal advancement above all things. So, what's in it for you?"
"Yes, trust you to stereotype based on school Houses," he jeered. "I told you earlier that I hate repeating myself, Granger, but your stupidity apparently knows no bounds."
"Fine," Hermione said suddenly. "I'll do it."
Her brain was doing cartwheels in confusion, still not quite sure as to what her mouth had blurted. Did she really just accept his proposal? Yes, she internally argued. Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer, she reasoned. The fact that he would provide her with funding was just an added bonus.
"I – What?"
"Need I repeat myself?" she mocked, dismissing him with her eyes. "Leave your details with my assistant."
Apparently she had surprised him, as he sat frozen for long moments. "Fine," he stated curtly, snapping back to a professional manner. He rose slowly and walked to her door.
Instead of leaving at the conclusion of their meeting like Hermione expected, Malfoy hesitated at her door. "Granger," he began.
Hermione raised an irritated eyebrow at him when he closed the door firmly and returned to the seat in front of her desk.
"I have… one more thing to ask of you."
"What?" Hermione eyed the sudden nervous look that entered into Malfoy's stony face.
"It's… a delicate situation. I need your help on something," The tight expression on his face belied the difficulty he felt in asking her. "But you have to promise to agree to it before I tell you."
"I knew it!" she hissed, eyes flashing. "All that rubbish about offering to fund my writing was just a pretence. You were buttering me up! For this!"
He took a deep calming breath. "Granger, I don't know how I'm able to explain this to you easily. I actually do need those Muggle contracts as my company will venture into the Muggle markets by year's end."
Hermione seethed silently in her seat, thoroughly convinced of his Slytherin behaviour.
"Listen to me Granger," he said in an exasperated tone. "What I'm asking of you with this… it's complicated. I can't tell you anything about it unless I've got your consent, and not a half arsed 'okay', I need a definite 'yes'."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "So, you're asking for something else of me, but I can't know what it is until I've said yes?"
"Indeed," he clarified, clearing his throat.
"Then no." Hermione stated with finality. "Honestly, Malfoy. The Muggle contracts I can accept, but this I can't. No, I won't. I'm not interested."
"Not even a little bit curious?" he prodded.
"Not even," she sneered in return.
"Why can't you just get off your high horse and put your prejudice aside, Granger?" he suddenly said, anger written over his fair features.
"Excuse me?"
"Don't play dumb. I know you won't help me because you still have your old preconceptions about me from Hogwarts."
Not bothering to deny it, Hermione jutted out her chin. "And if I do? Don't mistake my consent to doing business with you as anything but," she snarled. "I'll accept to that bargain, but that is all."
"I'll pay you double the salary you're ge–"
"Ah yes, very Malfoy of you," Hermione snarled, now standing. "If there's a problem, you throw money at it."
"Oh for fuck's sake, Granger. All I–"
"I'm not interested," Hermione raised her finger when she saw his mouth open in indignation. "That is all."
"Granger –"
"That is all," Hermione repeated shrilly, glaring at him.
Draco pursed his lips, eyes flashing daggers at her before he grabbed at his briefcase and left her office, her door loudly banging shut in his retreat.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please review, I'd like to hear your thoughts on the story so far.