Keep Your Friends Close

A/N: Against the odds, I managed to finish the chapter before due time, so here it is, a Women's Day gift to you, my female readers! (I doubt any man would be reading this, but you may prove me wrong)

I only have not had the time to properly edit it, it's pretty late and I need to get rest before tomorrow. So please excuse the fact that it might be rough 'round the edges, I'll re-read and review the content tomorrow.

Hermione was finally returning from the Manor in a much better frame of mind, which added an extra spring to her step and a gleam to her eye. She had finally gained access to dozens of books that would propel her project forward. She could hardly wait to notify Kingsley about Lucius Malfoy's "change of heart", though she suspected he might have already known, given his surprisingly wide-reaching grasp on Ministry related matters.

It turned out she was wrong. Kingsley had refrained from any further correspondence with the said Malfoy, having entrusted this matter into what he described as her "very capable hands". While Hermione was confounded as to the possible reasons why Lucius' attitude had taken such an abrupt shift without her boss' interference, Kingsley focused on the fact that it had, and invited Hermione to a celebratory lunch (it was after one, and Hermione has finally felt the pangs of hunger, her stomach demanding sustenance).

She gladly accepted the offer and together they made their way to the cafeteria, all the while discussing the details of the project as well as other ministerial business.

Later in the afternoon, Hermione decided to take an earlier than usual leave. As a matter of fact, she had already finished her work but she was so used to staying overtime that she felt almost as if she was sneaking out before time, abandoning her duties. Suppressing the counterfeit sense of guilt, Hermione left at four, saying goodbye to Kingsley on her way out, who looked as if he had no intention of going home that day, surrounded by precariously high piles of documents neatly arranged on his prominent desk and at least half a dozen fluttering aeroplane-shaped memos arriving and leaving his office in aviary formations.

She had plans for the evening, other than tiredly flopping on the sofa and listening to the meaningless chatter of the TV or radio. Earlier this week she had received an owl from Ginny, who was insisting on meeting and catching up after they had not seen each other for over a month. Hermione was to meet her red-haired friend in the Leaky Cauldron at six, which left her with ample time to prepare dinner and make herself presentable for the occasion.

Hermione was not a witch who has ever paid much attention to her outward appearance, but the natural vanity of a young representative of the fairer sex caused her to pause and take stock of her looks. She was never considered a beauty, but others found her pleasant-looking enough to earn her a few date requests over the years, most of which she politely declined, as she was still in a relationship with Ron up until last summer.

Hermione's main headache was the untamed mane of her chestnut brown curls which seemed to live their own life, much like the snake-haired Medusa. In vain she tried to subjugate her unruly locks into submission with a variety of smoothing potions and silkening charms; their effect was short-lived and her hair would always return to its frizzy, unbridled state with a slightest touch of humidity.

Finishing her half updo now, she was hoping it would last through the evening. She had weaved portions of hair on the sides of her head into loose twists and pinned them together at the back with a small butterfly hair comb. She had put on her tawny brown Boho blouse and a pair of wide-leg black jeans. Hesitating between the only set of heels she owned and suede loafers, she opted for the latter. It wasn't a date night, after all, she needn't sacrifice her comfort.

Satisfied with her own appraisal, Hermione grabbed her purse from the floor, much to the displeasure of her cat, Crookshanks, who was fancying himself as a skulking tiger, about to pounce on the bag's fringe with his clawed paws. He looked almost offended when his owner stole his potential prey and swung it across her shoulder.

"Crookshanks, don't give me this look, I know I don't spend much time at home these days but I promise you a nice treat if I manage to get to Magical Menagerie before it closes at seven. Now be a good cat and take care of the spider I saw near the bathroom door." She placed a light kiss between his ears and set off for the Diagon Alley.

When Hermione entered the Leaky Cauldron, she saw that Ginny had already been waiting for her, nestled in the secluded corner at the rear of the pub, her flaming red hair standing out starkly against the dingy stone walls. Hermione walked over to her friend, raising an eyebrow at three glasses of butterbeer.

"Harry will be joining us later," said Ginny.

The girls shared a hug, golden-brown ringlets mingling momentarily with long tresses of glossy red. Hermione sat down opposite the girl, depositing a small paper bag she had been clutching in her hand on the table.

"I'm so glad you sent that owl. It's too easy for me to get lost in all the responsibilities and forget all else," she confessed.

"I thought so. That's why I decided to take initiative. How is Kingsley treating you? I might need to have Harry remind him that my friend also has a life outside of work." Ginny wagged her finger, displaying her white hand, on which a small pearl ring glimmered in the flickering light of the candles fixed atop the rustic pendant lamp that hung under the rafter ceiling.

"Oh, he's a really good boss but it's not easy to live up to his expectations. I feel he overestimates my abilities at times," admitted Hermione, reflecting on her hardly won admittance to the Malfoy library.

"Still better than underestimating them, right?" Ginny smiled knowing how much career mattered to her aspiring friend.

"I mean, it's good to feel appreciated and valued but I need time to figure out the work-life balance. Anyway, how are you doing?"

"Oh I am good, thanks. Taking a break now before the new season starts. Do you know Harpies are playing a major match against the Appleby Arrows a few days after the wedding? It seems our honeymoon will be spent with an entourage of Quidditch players tagging behind," she chuckled.

Hermione never understood her friends' passion for this rough and hazardous sport. They could devote long hours discussing the prospects of various teams, assessing their players and passing up the latest gossip of the Quidditch world. While Hermione had learned the basic Quidditch facts from her friends, she was never quite au fait with the news, and was still prone to get the team names confused, much to the chagrin of Ginny, Harry and Ron, who seemed to have imbibed their aptitude for this sport with their mother's milk.

"How are the wedding preparations? Has your mum agreed to narrowing down the list of guests to fewer than one hundred?"

Molly Weasley had insisted on inviting everyone and their cousin, and the last time Hermione and Ginny talked, there were over three hundred and fifty names on the list.

"No chance. Harry and I are basically resigned to the fact that the ceremony will be a flipping social event of the summer. The upside, we'll probably get more gifts than we care for, though with my and Harry's earnings, we don't really need much. It's a nice change, I must say, after years of hand-me-down books and cauldrons, though being the only girl in the family has at least meant I got a new set of robes every couple of years, unlike Ron who used to always whine about wearing the old clothes Fred and George have grown out of."

It's been four years since Fred's passing, but Hermione thought his absence was still keenly felt, particularly his endearing goofiness and sharp wit.

"How is Ron, by the way?"

"Oh, he's doing okay. Ever since your split-up, he's been focusing on his career more and has recently passed the Auror tests, with some help from Harry who offered him good prior advice, and is now undergoing further training."

"I had no idea, that's fantastic news!"

"Yeah,bloody brilliant" answered Ginny, imitating the emphatic voice of her brother and both girls grinned.

"I feel I should write to him soon, but it's hard if you know what I mean."

"I totally get that. But you could at least send him a simple,Congratulations. You're still dear to him, Hermione," said Ginny with a strange earnestness that she seldom employed when her brother was the subject of the conversation.

"He's dear to me, too, as afriend," Hermione emphasised, "but we could never really make it work, you know that, Ginny."

"I know, I know, just saying… Our family still benefits from your positive influence on his table manners. Merlin's pants, he used to be such a pig in his teens when it came to eating. Tell me, is there someone else in sight?" Ginny nudged playfully, letting the conversation flow in the direction that most piqued her curiosity.

"If by "someone" you mean a romantic interest, then no luck here, that Valentine's Day failed date with Corner was the last I've had," Hermione gave a self-derisive laugh.

"Honestly, Hermione, I understand that your main life goal might not be child-bearing and housekeeping but do you want to stay single forever? Objectively speaking, you're fit and.."

"Thanks!"

"Andwhat is more important, I was going to say, your personality is really decent. But you ought to take the plunge sometimes, it's already the 21st century after all."

"I always thought the Wizarding world was rather stuck in the 19th in some ways. Besides I have something big going on now, that really takes up much of my attention," Hermione answered evasively.

"And what could that be? Is that the reason why you haven't found the time to meet up this last month?" Ginny prodded.

Hermione hesitated before she opened her mouth again, anticipating her friend's violent reaction if she had found out about her recurring calling on the Malfoy Manor. On the other hand, it would bewiseto have someone else, besides Kingsley, know about the project, in case Lucius played some dirty trick.

"You know, actually I had been considering telling you earlier but it all only started to take shape recently…"

"Hermione, you know that patience does not run in our family, please speak up."

"Alright! I've been seeing Lucius Malfoy.."

"You WHAT?" Ginny's shocked yell echoed through the pub, drawing curious stares from other customers and a rather galling glower from the barman.

"Let me finish, it's part of the research for the new campaign."

"What kind of campaign involves meeting with an ex-Death Eater like Lucius?Charitable Change-Transforming the Wizarding Society One Death Eater at a Time? orBringing Hope for Former Death-Eaters? Ginny scoffed.

"Not even close," Hermione answered seriously. We're working on rewriting the Pureblood laws. Remember the conversations I've been having with Kingsley since November? He actually spurned me on to get started with this, he's been really supportive and he's as invested in the project as I am, which is a treat in itself. What better time to revolutionise our world than now, when the war is still etched in people's consciousness and they are more open than ever to adapt their views?"

"I am not arguing that. But Lucius Malfoy of all people, this man was Voldemort's right-hand man, for Merlin's sake!"

"Hewas,that's part of the point. Besides, he's only letting me access his library to gather the research materials. You know that the Malfoys boast one of the finest in Britain. It's a shame, really, that he's only agreed for me to browse through the historical books. He actually hinted at a threat if I dared to touch anything else."

"Hermione, you're not hearing yourself right. I get you're really into books, but it's the house of a Death-Eater, a place where you had been tortured that we're talking about, and you act like you're excited to be there. If anything, I'd agree with Malfoy on this point. Goodness knows what sort of dark magic hides between these walls. You remember the diary he slipped into my cauldron that day in Flourish and Blotts back in my first year. What makes you think he wouldn't try something similar on you?" Ginny did not share Hermione's enthusiasm in the slightest.

"First of all, I wasn't tortured by him, but Bellatrix. While I can't say he's a different man, surely he must regret some of his past choices. And he warned me to keep away from the rest of the library, so your point about him planning some nasty manoeuvre is not very likely," Hermione was not aware why she was intent on defending the man, all of a sudden, considering that she knew her friends' scepticism was not entirely unfounded, "Anyhow, It was Kingley's idea in the first place, and I have his full support. I am only telling you because you're my friend and I'd rather you knew."

"Hermione, you're smarter than almost anyone I know, but sometimes your tunnel vision makes you oblivious to facts. I wish Harry was here, he would have told you that it's…"The witch was cut mid-sentence by a hasty kiss placed on her lips by a man with jet black hair, its untidy strands hovering around what looked like an old and fading lightning-shaped scar.

Harry had just arrived at their table, unnoticed by neither Ginny nor Hermione, engaged in what appeared to be an unfolding, heated argument. Sensing the tension, he quietly greeted Hermione with a friendly beam and a pat on the shoulder, and seated himself on a chair at the side across the two women, unknowingly appropriating the role of a mediator.

"I would have told her what?" he looked at his fiancée inquiringly.

"Hermione starts a new project which requires that she make herself a frequent guest to the Malfoy Manor," Ginny disclosed, shaking her head in disapproval, sending the tendrils of her brilliant red hair bouncing slightly across her temples.

"It's not like that. Hear me out, Harry." Hermione proceeded to fill him in on the details surrounding her new association with the Malfoy patriarch. When she finished, Harry sat in silence. When he spoke, his tone was serious, his gaze concentrated on the glass of butterbeer Ginny had ordered for him.

"Considering all, I believe Hermione is doing the right thing," Harry was torn between offering his true opinion and placating his fiancée, whose character was as fiery as her hair.

"Thank you, Harry", muttered a grateful Hermione.

"All the same…, " Harry continued, taking note of Ginny's frown, "you should take necessary precautions. How about you inform me each time you go and visit Malfoy?"

This time Ginny looked half-appeased but Hermione shot him an unappreciative glance.

"Look, I appreciate your concern. I honestly do, but I am a grown woman and I can take care of myself. It's not like Lucius is hiding in a corner with a drawn wand, ready to hex me. Last time I was there he was actually quite civil and restrained himself to only one or two insults," she finished jokingly to relieve some of the tension that had been building up. She realised that she had been ignoring the beer standing before her, which looked positively inviting, even if its creamy topping had lost half of its foam, sinking slowly into the golden liquid.

"I don't know, Hermione. I still can't come to terms with the fact that it was Kingsley who put forward this preposterous idea!" Ginny was adamant.

"Since when did you get so averse to a bit of risk and adventure?" Hermione's voice took on caustic undertones.

"I just don't trust the man," Ginny sighed and fell silent.

Hermione did not say anything else either, and Harry followed suit. For a while, the three of them busied themselves with savouring the sweet and sticky contents of their drink, the only noise coming from clinking of glasses, rattling of dishes, trampling of feet and a din of coarse voices mingling with boisterous calls for food and drink.

Putting down his empty glass, Harry peeked inside the bag Hermione had set on the table and pulled a disgusted face.

"Lace-wing flies? You're not planning on making another Polyjuice potion, Hermione?" he said playfully, in an attempt to assuage some of the tension lingering in the air.

With a little smile developing on her face (this particular potion was somehow a recurring theme in their adventures together), Hermione offered a word of explanation, "It's for Crookshanks, he has developed quite a taste for all sorts of insects recently. Last week he gobbled down a jar of expired dried beetles that I found when I was giving my house a spring cleaning. There are days that I am especially thankful for how magic makes lives easier for the Wizardkind."

Harry nodded. Unlike Ginny, who was raised in a traditional wizarding household, he and Hermione had spent a good portion of their lives completely nescient of their magical heritage, so naturally their appreciation for simple spell alternatives to common Muggle chores and struggles was greater.

"Harry is pretty good at housework, actually. Each time I come to Grimmauld's Place, I am surprised to find it in a good shape," said Ginny, putting in her two cents, "for a wizard, at least," she teased, her hand reaching up to place her palm on his shoulder, the simple gesture betraying both affection and pride. Hermione thought that they were a great match, in fact, she was the first of their friends to suspect that Ginny's nervousness around Harry had something to do with her infatuation with him, neither had Harry's increasingly longing glances in the girl's direction escaped her notice. She was glad for her friends, even if her own love life was wanting.

"Kreacher had cleaned out the worst bit, before he passed," Harry was not a person to take undue credit. Old Kreacher was an aged house-elf who had been serving The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black for generations, where Harry's godfather and only Wizarding relative, Sirius, had descended from. Harry had inherited his ancestral home shortly after Sirius' death about six years earlier.

"Have you decided yet if you're going to stay at Grimmauld's after the wedding?"

"No, it's a dark spot, too many horrendous and sad events had taken place there. And it makes me think of Sirius' last solitary years there, and the "what ifs" of what the future would look like if he were still alive." Hermione took a look at Harry's pained face; she knew he had finally made peace with Sirius' passing but any mention of his godfather was still a challenge. "I wish to raise my family in a different environment.

Hermione agreed that it was indeed a place marked with sorrow, considering the misery and heartache that had befallen its walls.

"Harry has found us a place at Godric's Hollow, not far from his family house," said Ginny softly, squeezing her fiance's hand with her own, smaller one.

"It's not big, but it will suffice us, at least before more kids arrive at the scene." Harry grinned.

"How many are you planning on?"

"I want at least half a dozen, so they can have as much fun as we did when growing up," said Ginny, referring to her rather large family and her six siblings.

"Come on, you were constantly jumping at each other's throats!"

"Precisely, that was the best bit of fun! But Harry is set only on three, I think he wants to raise another Golden Trio all on his own," was Ginny's cheeky response.

"That's impossible. The original Golden Trio is irreplaceable and completely unique," Hermione smiled from the rim of her glass and took a sip. "Which actually reminds me -the Administration Department is organising another annual Spring Ball commemorating our victory at the Battle of Hogwarts. Are you planning on coming?"

This would be the fourth event of that character since the end of the war. Hermione attended the first two as a guest of honour, along with her friends, but last year she decided to forego it, for various reasons she'd rather keep to herself.

"We'd like to go but with all the wedding planning, we might be kept busy, right, Gin?" Harry replied.

"Speak for yourself. I think I'd rather do without extra publicity which becoming your wife already entails. Imagine that one, Hermione, Becoming Mrs-The-Boy-Who-Lived," she bemoaned with mock despair.

"Who are you to complain? At least you're not asked to sign autographs like some sort of fame-thirsty war hero."

"You are a war hero, Harry." Hermione emphasised, "but who would have thought that poor Gilderoy had something of an Inner Eye, foretelling your renown?" She could not keep herself from goading her friend, getting into a rather impish mood.

They spent another hour or so chatting loosely about the past, present and future. When the conversation circled back to their careers, and Hermione's new position as Kingley's assistant as well as her current undertaking, Harry chanced to speak again, "Don't let him take advantage of you, Hermione by wearing your heart on your sleeve. Try to think like he does. Remember? When in Rome…"

"Do as Romans do. " Spotting puzzled look on Ginny's face at the expression, Hermione clarified, "It's a Muggle saying which implies that when visiting another place, one should follow the customs of the people in that place. Though I fear I am no match for the Slytherin slyness."

Both Harry and Ginny thought that some of their friends' actions had all the markings of conniving. Such as when she had broken into Snape's personal stores, or tricked Dolores Umbridge into the Forbidden Forest, which very nearly ended lethally for the old toad.

"Anyways, you have my blessing to bring old Lucius Malfoy down a peg or two," Ginny concluded.

"And if you need an Auror to ever have a chit-chat with the man, we're at your service," added Harry. "When is your next appointment in his library scheduled for?"

"Tuesday afternoon," said Hermione with a sigh, letting the air escape through her nose.

The day arrived soon enough.