Hermione was not a happy person when she woke up. She had a blinding headache and had no recollections of what had happened during the last 16 hours.
Finally opening her eyes and looking around her, she realized not of the surroundings was familiar to her. She was in a large black bed with silver comforters and pillows. The room itself was magnificent and large, with intricate details on the wood and side panels. The clothes on her body, she noted, were most definitely not hers. She had the rising suspicion that the shorts she was wearing were indeed men's boxers.
Surprisingly enough, Hermione wasn't frightened – merely curious. The room she was in was absolutely fantastic, the sun was shining – although the light hurt her eyes and caused her to groan – and she was wearing clothes that did not belong to her. Yep. Curious was the right word.
Taking her time in getting out of the bed, Hermione slowly made her way across the room to the large oak doors. Once in the hallway, she looked both ways, hoping for some indication of familiarity. None came to her, however.
Luckily she found a house-elf scurrying away in fear, and managed to stop her.
"Hello!" said Hermione brightly, her own cheery voice grating her nerves, "This may sound like an odd question, but where am I?"
The elf looked positively terrified. "Miss is in Malfoy Manor…Miss."
"I beg your pardon?" Hermione gasped.
The elf cowered over on herself, backing away slowly, "Malfoy Manor, Miss! Master Malfoy is wanting you in his study, Miss, and I is only passing along a message, but I is hearing Master Malfoy is not in a good mood today." With that, the elf scurried away, presumably towards to the kitchens.
Hermione just stood there for the better part of ten minutes, trying to convince herself she was dreaming. To recap, since she had woken up not twenty minutes ago, she had discovered she was in unfamiliar territory with no memory of what had happened since yesterday afternoon, and she was clearly wearing men's shorts and a woman's shirt which was most definitely not her own. Surreal.
Hermione made her way to the other side of the hall in the direction from which the elf had originally come, and knocked on the last door sharply.
True to the elf's word, Draco Malfoy did indeed open the door. His hair was disheveled and he was wearing a fitting black sweater with black trousers. Hermione thought he looked ravishing.
This was still the hangover talking.
"What…" began Hermione, "How…I don't even remember…elf…"
Malfoy stared at her dubiously, "Your powers of speech and perception are astounding. Simply astounding."
"Sod off, Malfoy," snapped Hermione, seating herself opposite of Malfoy's desk, and looking about her. "Care to explain what the hell I'm doing here?"
Malfoy rolled his eyes at her, causing Hermione's teeth to clench together. "Long story short, you couldn't hold down your liquor, you vomited over my amazing shag, and were such a mess that I couldn't just leave you on the coatroom floor."
"Oh," said Hermione, "So I have a hangover. I feel lousy."
"You look it too, rest assured," Malfoy supplied, not looking up at her from the paperwork scattered on the desk.
Hermione was taking this all rather well. Malfoy had expected screaming and demands and possibly even violence. Instead, she was sitting with a dazed look on her face, looking for all the world like a patient in a mental hospital.
Malfoy waved his wand absentmindedly and conjured up a goblet of steaming liquid, handing it to Hermione. When she looked at it suspiciously Malfoy drawled, "Pepper-Up Potion."
Hermione accepted the goblet, drinking graciously. She leaned back in the chair, slouching down, and sighed contentedly. She asked, "Do you have the time, by any chance?"
"Five to ten," said Malfoy, scratching notes on a piece of parchment. He held up the parchment, examined it, shook his head to signal he wasn't satisfied with it, and scratched on it again.
Hermione jumped out of her seat, dropping the goblet on the floor carelessly, and let out a howl. "Five to ten! Five to ten!" Hermione cried.
"…Yes," said Malfoy. He was quite startled, but wasn't really showing it. His only indication was a slight widening of the eyes. Then realization set in, "Your interview."
"I haven't any clothes – I don't even know whose clothes I'm wearing right now! – and I don't have time to go back to Ginny's to get clothes! Oh no! Ginny! She's probably been worried sick, wondering where I am! And what am I doing here!"
Malfoy stood abruptly and slapped her face firmly, only hard enough for her to stop screeching. She gaped at him in disbelief, and then punched him right in the nose. He doubled over, yelling obscenities, trying to wipe the blood from his face.
"Bloody mudblood!" roared Malfoy, "This is the thanks I get for taking you under my wing!"
"Malfoy, I have an interview in an hour! I have no clothes and no time to get any. I need to be there early so I can sign in and get a visitor's badge! Malfoy!" cried Hermione, running out of the study into the hallway.
"Stop!" yelled Malfoy after her, "I'll get you clothes, just stop!"
Hermione turned around, her eyes wide with worry and her hair flying around her. She followed him down a set of spiral stairs and into a room with large double-doors. The room was a bedroom – a master bedroom, at one point – which looked as though it hadn't been occupied in years.
Malfoy rummaged through a chest drawer and pulled out a pile of clothes, motioning for Hermione to choose from them.
"My mother's clothes; they're obviously no use to me, so go ahead," said Malfoy indifferently, looking away.
Hermione dove into the pile of clothing, emerging with a white oxford shirt, a blazer, a short gray skirt and a green tie. Slytherin colors. How unfitting.
Malfoy handed her a pair of black high-heeled pumps, asking if they would do.
"Those look a bit small…" Hermione started.
Malfoy sighed dramatically, saying, "And you call yourself a witch. I knew there was a reason why muggle-borns were inferior." Hermione didn't have the time to reply, instead letting him cast a spell to make the shoes larger.
She slipped them on quickly and ran into the adjacent bathroom, examining herself in the full length mirror.
She shrieked, "I look like I have a hangover! I have bags under my eyes, I'm pale as death, my hair is a mess, and my eyes are bloodshot." She tugged at her hair, wondering what to do.
She perked up, looking into Malfoy's eyes, "Do you use hair-gel of any kind?"
Malfoy raised his eyebrows at her, "Well I'm not going to lie to you. My hair doesn't naturally look this good."
Hermione wanted to comment that at the moment his hair wasn't particularly good-looking, being as it was so messy and sticking up in all different directions. Draco conjured his hair-products into the bathroom.
Hermione looked down at herself, "Please tell me I'm not wearing your boxers."
Malfoy didn't respond.
"I'm going to be very upset with you later. I'm probably going to kill you because you couldn't have gotten these clothes on me without taking my other clothes off first. Pervert."
She slammed the door in his face, changing frantically. She spritzed herself with Malfoy's cologne, put some quick gel in her hair to tame the curls and had no idea what to do with her face until Draco came into the bathroom again with a box of his mother's old make-up.
Hermione had no idea why he was being so helpful – or why he wasn't insulting her as much as he usually did. She had the sneaking suspicion something had happened last night that he wasn't telling her about. She was most certainly going to find out by the end of the today, she promised.
Before she flooed to the Ministry she hesitated and said, "Malfoy – thank you. For helping me this morning and looking after me last night. I'm not going to get emotional on you, but what you did was uncharacteristically decent of you and I really appreciate it." With that she surprised herself and Malfoy as well by hugging him quickly. He recoiled underneath her.
Seconds before she shouted "Ministry for Magic!" into the hearth, she turned again and said maliciously, "I want a detailed explanation of last night's happenings. You have not seen the last of me, Malfoy."
As soon as Hermione was gone, Malfoy hurled an expensive vase at the wall and let out a yell. He flopped down on the sofa and huffed with exasperation, feeling frustrated and confused.
He called out to the empty hallway, "Somebody get me a fucking Calming Draught!"
Several house-elves scurried in different directions.
Hermione was running down the hall of the 5th floor of the Ministry, trying to pin on her visitor's badge as she did so. The bloody prat of a security wizard had deliberately taken his time and interrogated her for the best part of 20 minutes before he let Hermione go. He claimed her wand was way passed its last inspection date, to which she indignantly protested, saying she had her wand inspected regularly like clockwork. She figured the security wizard was just plain bored was looking for some action.
She stopped outside of Orlinda Rawlins's office. She straightened her back and her skirt, fixed her hair quickly, and knocked on the door firmly.
"Come in!" called a cheery voice which belonged to Orlinda.
Hermione stepped in professionally, and walked over to Orlinda's desk, a smile on her face.
"Boy, you walk like a model, you do!" laughed Orlinda, "Please, please, have a seat."
Hermione sat opposite her, sitting straight and feeling quite nervous.
"Darling, don't look so nervous! I'm only going to ask some questions, go over the basic rules of the Ministry, stuff like that. Smile!"
Hermione let out a breath and made herself more comfortable, smiling gratefully, "Thank you. I'm sorry I'm so nervous but I've never had a professional interview before."
Orlinda nodded understandingly, "Most people I interview are a bit nervous, so it's only natural. I try to be casual and light about it. Creates a better atmosphere, you know."
Hermione greatly appreciated Orlinda's kind and laughing nature. It made her feel better; like she could connect with this woman. She hoped that if she got the job, she could be as light-hearted and accepting as Orlinda.
"Feeling alright?" asked Orlinda, "Ready to begin? I'm going to have to sound business-like, but just overlook that.
"So, firstly, why do you want the position of Head of the Department of Muggle Relations?"
Hermione thought for a second, choosing her words wisely. "I used to want to be a Professor in Arithmancy at Hogwarts. I was going through training until just after Christmas, but my first day of teaching I realized I didn't want it anymore. I've always been interested in contributing directly to society – both Muggle and Wizarding society. I'm a muggle-born, you see, so I've always felt connected to both parts of my life. I want to slowly educate the Muggle government about the Wizarding government and create an alliance of sorts, for peace and stability between both communities. I feel it would innovate the Muggle society and educate the Wizards who don't believe Muggles are worth the time."
"Good answer! And I believe you're currently living in Edinburgh? Should you get the job are you going to commute or will you relocate to London? I should warn you that the Ministry is a bit iffy about commuters, especially from as far as Scotland."
"I'd definitely relocate to London. This is my first home, with all my friends and family here. Should I get the job, I will probably live with my friend, Ginevra Weasley, until I can get a residence of my own," said Hermione.
"Ah, Ginny!" said Orlinda, "Oh, she's so cute. She comes in to the Ministry all the time to visit Harry. Heard they're engaged! Such an adorable couple." She cleared her throat and continued, "Do you have any past experience that would be of any use to the position you're applying for?"
Hermione was amazed at Orlinda's ability to change between formal and informal in a matter of seconds. She replied, "I've had training in international relations. It was part of my training for my Hogwarts position. I studied in Rome – at the Institute of Modern Wizardry – and I've also had personal travel experience. I'm a skilled diplomat – during the War I was the go-between for the Order and Hogwarts."
The rest of the interview continued smoothly. Orlinda would pause and off-the-record would chat with Hermione, then switch back to her questions. Orlinda thought that a straight question-and-answer interview would be boring, and much preferred a natural conversation every once in a while.
The interview ended with "What can you contribute to the Ministry for Magic?" and Hermione replied soundly.
Orlinda was stacking the parchment on which the interview was recorded and said nonchalantly, "Very good interview, Miss Granger. I liked your personality and the depth of your answers. You start work on Monday, but you'll have to attend a starting seminar to learn the ropes on Friday. Congratulations, you've got the job."
"I – what?"
Orlinda smiled. "Miss Granger, you had the job the minute I finished reading Minerva's letter. I just wanted a real interview so I could meet you and see what you were like. I see that you're an incredibly bright young woman with big hopes for the world. I'm here to help you see them accomplished."
Hermione beamed at Orlinda and grinned largely, "You can't imagine how much this means to me! I've been nervous all week, but I'm so excited. I can't wait to start work and I'll do whatever is expected of me and more!"
The first thing Hermione did when she closed the door of Orlinda's office and give a shout of joy and jump up and down. She laughed to herself, feeling giddy.
She Apparated straight to Ginny's house, rushing to her bedroom. She made sure to knock this time.
Ginny ran to the door and flung it open, "Hermione! Where have you been? I was so worried! I sent Harry to the Concord to look for you and you weren't there!"
Hermione apologized profusely. "Gin, I'm so sorry. I'm not even sure what happened. I drank too much and Malfoy ended up taking me to Malfoy Manor and he looked after me."
Ginny was shocked. "Malfoy? Draco "I'm the biggest arse" Malfoy? He actually took care of you? Blimey, that's incredible. I'd expect him to take advantage of your vulnerability and humiliate you in front of everyone."
"He didn't. At least not to my knowledge. I did, however, wake up wearing his boxers," Hermione said crossly, "If something happened without my knowledge or consent last night there will be hell to pay."
Ginny gaped at her, "You don't think he would…take advantage of you like that, would he? So help me God, I will beat him to a bloody pulp if he's as audacious as I think he is."
"No, no! I'm just saying," said Hermione, "Besides, Malfoy absolutely deplores me. He thinks I'm scum, remember? He wouldn't sleep with me if his life depended on it."
Ginny wasn't convinced. "You should go back to Malfoy Manor and give him a piece of your mind. Get the facts straight and all." She look at Hermione's clothes. "I've never seen those before, are they yours?"
Hermione looked up sheepishly. "They're Narcissa Malfoy's. Malfoy loaned me clothes this morning – I didn't have time to come back here before my interview."
"Your interview!" Ginny exclaimed, "Oh, I forgot! How did it go?"
"I got the job!" squealed Hermione, "I'm so excited, you have no idea! I start work on Monday but I've got to attend a seminar on Friday."
"Oh, Hermione, I'm so proud!" Ginny said, hugging Hermione. "Does this mean you're moving back to London?"
Hermione nodded her head, asking timidly, "Ginny, I haven't a place to stay right away, so –"
"You don't even have to ask, Hermione! You can stay with me as long as you like, I'd be delighted."
Hermione hugged her again, filled with relief and joy.
"Maybe you should go talk to Malfoy now?" Ginny suggested, shoving her towards the hearth.
Hermione sighed. "I suppose. I should go change out of these clothes so I can give them back, though."
She rushed downstairs to get her bag of clothes and changed quickly into regular Muggle clothing – jeans and a fitted blue sweater.
She reluctantly filled her hands with the green powder. Thrusting it into the hearth she exclaimed, "Malfoy Manor!"
She wiped the dust off her clothes, stepping out into the large marble hallway hesitantly. She had Narcissa's clothes in a bag and she realized it would be rude to return the clothes unwashed. She cast a quick Scourgify on them and placed them in the bag again. She wasn't sure which room she was in or where to go. She had only been in Narcissa's bedroom, the study, and Malfoy's bedroom when she was here earlier this morning.
She walked down the hallway, her heels clicking loudly against the marble. She hadn't an idea which direction to go, so she continued straight, looking for any indication of Malfoy or one of his house-elves. The thought of house-elves working for Malfoy made Hermione frown crossly. She would like to talk to the elves about how they felt about their current situation.
A cold voice interrupted her thoughts from behind her. "What are you doing here, Granger?"
Hermione stopped, refusing to turn around. "I have your mother's clothes." She turned on her heel slowly, looking into the gray eyes of Draco Malfoy. She held out the bag to him, but he stayed where he was.
She frowned. "Don't you want them back?"
"I don't need them," was his short reply.
"Malfoy, I can't just keep your mother's clothes," protested she.
Annoyed, he banished the bag in her hand to another room. "Was that all?"
"As a matter of fact, no," said Hermione, jutting out her chin defiantly. "You're going to tell me what happened last night. Now. And if you leave anything out – no matter how small or insignificant – you're going to regret it."
Malfoy had the nerve to grace her with his trademark smirk. Hermione snarled at him in response, her eyes set.
Malfoy motioned for her to follow him up a flight of stairs. She recognized the hallway as the one she'd been in that morning. He led her into his study and shut the door behind them.
Hermione took the seat she'd taken that morning, relaxing. Familiar territory. She knew this room and knew where the exit was should something unwanted happen.
Malfoy took a great deal in seating himself and beginning his version of events. He didn't say anything until Hermione tutted him. He glared sparingly at her and began.
"We were both at the Ministry Gala last night. I was talking to Orlinda Rawlins and you came up to speak with her. She excused herself after a few minutes to speak with the Minister, which left you and me. Usual pleasantries were exchanged –" Hermione snorted "– and you stormed away, running into Viktor Krum. The half-wit introduced his girlfriend to you, you got jealous and introduced me as your boyfriend, and I left you by yourself to pursue a fabulous looking blond. I shagged her, then shagged her friend – both in the coatroom – and while I was moving on to my next conquest you came into the coatroom piss-drunk and vomited all over the girl. She ran out and you were fell to the ground and started weeping like a pathetic thing. I pitied you and brought you back here."
Hermione was stuck on the part where she ran into Viktor Krum. "Viktor? I ran into Viktor? And he had a girlfriend?" When Malfoy nodded she continued in a small voice, "Was she pretty?"
Malfoy, never known to spare one's feelings, nodded enthusiastically and said, "Bloody sexy, she was. I couldn't believe she was with Viktor Krum, the ugly git."
Hermione didn't look at him, choosing instead to stare at the floor. "And after you brought me back here? I couldn't have changed myself."
Malfoy hesitated. He was walking on thin ice here. "I… laidyouonmybedandchangedyou."
Hermione looked up at him, shocked. "What did you see!" she hissed.
Malfoy wasn't looking at her anymore. "Well you weren't wearing a bra, which was bloody well not my fault."
Hermione howled, clutching her hair. "Malfoy!"
Malfoy was indignant. "Would you rather I left you in your dress covered in vomit? Or would you have wanted me to let a house-elf change you?"
Hermione cringed, imagining a small, cute house-elf seeing her naked form and snaking its hands over her body.
Malfoy's point was proven. "There you go."
Hermione got out of her chair, straightening her jeans. "Well, that settles it, I suppose."
Malfoy lifted himself out of his seat, following her to the door.
Hermione paused, her hand on the doorknob. She turned around abruptly and marched up to Malfoy. She smacked him in the face. Hard.
She tugged on his sweater, pulling his face close to hers. She could feel his breath on his face and their noses were almost touching. Malfoy looked straight into her eyes, revealing nothing.
"Tell no one about last night, and forget everything about what you saw," she hissed, glaring holes into his eyes. She released him and straightened his sweater, beaming. "I got the job by the way. Fantastic, isn't it?"
She winked at him and left him standing there.