The chapters have been coming out fairly quickly. Not sure that will continue as work resumes after the new year. Thanks for reading.

5. The Ruse

Kingsley Shacklebolt studied Draco's performance reports under the light of the green bankers lamp and nodded with a look of satisfaction.

"This is much better than the last report. What the hell did you say to him Hermione?"

"Nothing really sir. I just tried to explain the situation as best I could. Never thought any of it really sunk in," she said with shrug of her shoulders.

"Well, whatever – something has sure made a difference."

"Yes sir."

"Oh, and on this protracted illness of Cynthia's – very strange really. They'll be running some tests at St. Mungo's. Well, what I'm trying to say is, with her problems and the progress you're making here – I'd like you to make this thing with Malfoy a permanent assignment."

"Me sir?" she asked with a look of bewilderment.

"Yes you. If we could turn the Malfoys into a useful element of the Magical community it would be nothing less than a major coup," he said and smiled broadly.

"Well, yes sir," she said and stared blankly at the wall.

"You don't have a problem with this assignment?" he asked with an expression of concern.

"Oh, no sir. Not at all," she replied and bit her lip nervously for telling the fib.

"Good. Good. You know, performance reviews and promotions will be evaluated here very shortly. With the enormous contributions you've made this year – you're up for promotion. Just thought I should let you in on that," he added smiling.

"Thank you sir!"

Hermione trudged back to her office, trying her best to put the things Kingsley told her into perspective. The thought of continuing the assignment with Draco was somewhat troubling. Draco was a wild card and there was no telling what he might do from one week to the next. She had always strived for excellence in every task given to her. But with this assignment she felt almost helpless to control the outcome. What if Draco jumped ship and was never found again? It would look horrible on her performance review. A good review and a promotion would likely mean an increase in pay as well. That would certainly come in handy for her and Ron right now.

But there was one thing she couldn't tell Kingsley and she even had trouble admitting it to herself. It was obvious things had changed since school days. Draco was different – much different, and she had changed as well. She would have to be very tough with Draco every step of the way. But it would help tremendously if he wasn't so damned good looking.

‡‡‡‡‡

Perhaps she's been too sensitive, but Draco's remark about the work robes and school days had cut deeply. After all the hard work she'd put in at the Ministry she didn't relish being likened to the naïve schoolgirl? When they met today in the canteen she would go on a different tack. Smart business casual might leave Mr. Malfoy with the impression she meant business. Sold on that approach, she reached into her wardrobe and pulled out her midnight blue jacket. She reached for a thin strapped vest but, on a second thought, put it back. The jacket had high lapels and could be worn without the vest. She slipped on the new bra and checked it with cupped hands to adjust the fit. Just loose enough for comfort and heaven forbid a little extra room if needed. It was cleverly adorned with cute straps and a little red rose stitched in the center. She wriggled into a rather snug knee length and matching skirt and tried on the jacket. She was satisfied with the look as the cute bra straps would occasionally peep out. Sliding into the heels she made one last vanity check in the mirror before heading out the door.

It was almost ten o'clock when the note from Draco arrived. It had been a quiet morning with Ron and Harry out somewhere on a local assignment. The halls had been deserted for most of the morning. She slipped off the black work robes and hung them on the hanger in her office. Gathering together the sheets of parchment that made up Draco's performance report, she made her way to the canteen.

Draco was nowhere in sight when she entered the canteen. Grabbing a cup of coffee and a table in plain sight, she re-read the report. How would she play this today? The report was sterling, but she'd best play it safe and not be too complimentary. He was only a few weeks into the work assignment and the finish line was a long way off. Well where the hell was he, anyway? Probably lost again, she thought when at that moment soft footsteps could be heard just outside the door. Sick of the glowing report, she looked up casually to see the tall and darkly clad figure sauntering her way.

"Sorry, got a little turned around. These boring halls – they all look the same," he said apologetically.

"That's Okay Draco. Have a seat... oh, get some coffee if you like," she added and pointed toward the coffee at the end of the canteen line.

He turned toward the line as if to consider her suggestion. Again he was wearing the dark jacket and a light airy shirt. The custom cut trousers were riding a bit low and held up, it appeared, only by the bulge of his derriere. Scolding herself for looking, she concentrated instead on the expensive pair of jet black oxfords that completed the outfit.

"No... thanks. It's a bit late for me," he said and pulled up a chair. He leaned back with a wry smile and a cat-like contented look.

"Well, this is quite an improvement," she managed to say and placed the report gently on the table. She could feel his grey eyes drinking their fill and she squirmed slightly. "So... how did you manage it?" she added with a shrug.

"You know, I'm not completely sure Granger. I guess we all have good weeks and bad ones. Well, these two went fairly well," he replied with a casual looseness.

"You're not giving me much to go on," she added, shaking her head.

"What else do you need Granger?" he asked, puzzled.

"You forget this is an exercise for us as well. If we've done something right handling your case we'd like to know what it is."

Draco shrugged and finally replied, "I'll think about that and let you know."

"Well that's really decent of you. I'll include your generosity in my report," she said and returned a stern look.

He smiled and said, "Oh, don't be put off. If things are still going well by next time, I'll have an explanation – I promise."

"And I'll hold you to it. Well good luck over the next couple of weeks," she said and rose from the table.

"We're done here?" he asked, with a look of surprise.

"See how simple things are when you do what you're supposed to."

"Do what I'm told to you mean. Where's your friend - Cynthia? I thought you were turning me over?" he asked and raised a brow.

"Unfortunately, she's still unable to resume her duties, and Kingsley has ordered me to take over, so it looks like you're stuck with me now. Sorry," she said with a coy shrug.

"Oh... Well, sorry about your friend, but good luck with with your new assignment," he said with a grin.

"You just continue to do a good job," she said and smiled for the first time.

They paused standing for a moment and he looked her over conspicuously. First down and then back up.

"Glad you lost the robes. You look nice today Granger," he said nodding. Still cocky and smiling.

"Flattering comments won't get you out of work Draco," she said sternly.

"So why do you think the compliment isn't genuine Granger?" he added with a grin and immediately turned to leave.

‡‡‡‡‡

There was something vaguely out of place about the interview, and Hermione didn't like it. She couldn't quite place her finger on it – perhaps it was a woman's intuition, but she suspected she was being played. Draco was back to his old cocky and cavalier self as if living in that disconnected reality in the Wiltshire mansion. Two weeks ago he was in a panic over having to do real work, now he looked as though he just arrived from a holiday in the country.

At the front door to her flat, she scrambled for her door key. With a little luck it turned up just where she thought it should be. Winky was in the kitchen cleaning and she ducked unnoticed into her bedroom to change. She hung up the jacket and and slipped out of the skirt and stripped comfortably naked before sliding into a faded pair of jeans and wriggling into a warm cardigan. She threw on an old pair of trainers and returned to the kitchen.

"Good evening Miss," Winky said looking up. "How was your day today?"

"A fair day Winky – guess I can't complain. If we have something to warm up – can you stay and have something to eat?"

"Well yes Miss Hermione. That's very kind of you."

In a few minutes, she and Winky had a small meal on the table of soup and sandwiches. They ate quietly at first and then Hermione remembered Winky's connections to the house-elves at Malfoy manor. She had a thought that was a little underhanded, but nothing compared to what the Malfoys were capable of.

"Say Winky – you know a house-elf at Malfoy Manor don't you?"

Winky's huge eyes got even bigger.

"Well – uh – yes Miss. Yes I, I do," she stammered.

"I remembered that sometimes you talk to those elves – right?" Hermione persisted.

"Uh... yes Miss. Sometimes I do."

"Well, do they still mention Draco? And if they do – how is his job working out? Do you know?"

An elfish look of relief washed over her face. "Oh I see. You wants to know about Mister Draco," Winky said with a look of calm. "Well, the gossip is Miss is that Mister Draco done quit his job," she said, most disapprovingly.

"Quit his job – Winky, are you sure?"

"That's what the gossip says Miss," Winky announced, rolling her huge glassy eyes.

‡‡‡‡‡

"Hermione are you sure about this? Ernie insists Draco is still working and doing a decent job," Kingsley Shacklebolt said with a troubled expression.

"I think we can rely on Winky sir. In any case we don't have to completely rely on her," she said flatly.

"Don't follow you there," he returned with a puzzled expression.

"We could prove this by using someone like a secret shopper," she said with wide eyes.

"A secret shopper?"

"Yes sir, we employ someone for a night or two to take a ride on the bus to see what's going on here."

"Oh, yes I see what you mean. But who could we get?" he asked.

"I was thinking of using odd-job Oldowe," she announced proudly.

"Yeah, he might be just right for this kind of thing," Kingsley said, scratching his ear.

Fergus Oldowe, AKA odd-job Oldowe or just odd-job, was a well known squib that worked all kind of odd and end jobs for the Ministry. The only one that stuck was a job escorting magically bound prisoners to and from Azkaban. But it wasn't anything like full time work, so he filled in with all kinds duties and jobs that needed performing.

"If he's okay with you sir, I'll send him an Owl."

‡‡‡‡‡

Two days later Fergus Oldowe trudged into Hermione's office and stuck his head in the door.

"Hello there," Fergus announced in a scruffy voice.

"Oh hello Fergus – come in," she said and pointed to the chair by her desk. "How are things?"

Fergus was a huge burly man and normally as gentle as a lamb. He had a beard of white hair and was, as usual, dressed in a hounds tooth coat and cap. He had a little trouble fitting in the small wooden chair beside Hermione's desk.

"Oh – canna complain I guess. And you Miss?"

"Well that depends on what you've found Fergus," she said with a wry smile.

"I been on that bus for two nights Miss, and your man – well he wah there – both nights. And doing a fair job, I might add."

Oh dear – how could Winky have been so mistaken. Now I've done it – I'll look like a total fool.

"Fergus... are you sure? A tallish guy with blonde hair?" she implored.

"Yeah – a tall fella and hair as white as snow," he said almost apologetically.

"Oh what a mess," she said with her head in hands. "It could be someone using Polyjuice Potion," she added bitterly.

They both sat there for several minutes that felt like an hour, each giving the other puzzled looks.

"Wait a minute – just one minute," Hermione said and raised a forefinger into the air like an apple had fallen on her head. She jumped up and left the room to appear a few moments later with an article from the Daily Prophet with a good likeness of Draco on the front page.

"Fergus, is this who you saw?" she asked and handed Oldowe the article.

He studied the picture with a expression of puzzlement.

"Uh... no Miss. It's not the same person – it's close but not the same," he said.

‡‡‡‡‡

"So you see sir, Draco has probably hired someone that looks just like him to do the work!" she exclaimed to Kingsley with a touch of discovery in her voice. "Ernie Prangs is nearly blind and couldn't tell them apart. Even Odd-job had a little trouble," she added.

"Brilliant! I'll send an Auror to pick up the imposter and we'll know the whole story by tomorrow. As far as Draco is concerned – of course he'll have to make up the time he skipped out on," he said while lighting his pipe. "I'll let you decide the rest, but you must warn him – if he pulls something like this again, it's Azkaban for sure," he said pointing the pipe stem toward Hermione.

"Yes sir, I'll make that very plain."

The next morning, Hermione listened to the blonde headed charlatan explain the whole story to her and Kingsley, in Kingsley's office. She immediately sent Draco an Owl with a message and a stern warning:

Draco,

Be in my office tomorrow at your first convenience.

Fail to do so and you will face dire consequences.

Officially Yours,

Hermione Granger.

‡‡‡‡‡

Draco had a small butterfly getting bigger in the base of his stomach. The plan had been foolproof, so how in the hell had Granger figured out his game so fast? The first Owl had been from his blonde headed double telling him the gig was over. The second Owl from the Ministry arrived shortly thereafter. He had no idea what action the Ministry would take as he slowly filed down the long corridor toward Granger's office. Would they cancel the public service gimmick and send him to Azkaban? Possibly. But the thought didn't particularly scare him. Oddly enough, what had first entered his mind when the Owl arrived – what initially bothered him – was that his meetings with Granger would be over.

"Good morning," he said cheerfully with his head poked in Hermione's office doorway.

"Have a seat Draco," she replied calmly while studying the report. There was a few moments of uncomfortable silence. "Well... do you want to start things off or should I," she finally added.

"I'm sure it's all in your report Granger," he said, looking uncomfortable now. "I'm in your hands," he said with a smirk and a shrug.

"Yes you are Draco. You know I'm disappointed – I really am. But right now I'm pissed off. You made me look like a fool in front of superiors. If you ever... pull anything like this again, I will personally escort your arse to Azkaban," she said forcefully and slammed the report on her small desk. The straight hair was beginning to curl back to it's natural bushy form. When the wave of anger had subsided, the hair fell limp and straight again.

"You sound angry Granger," Draco said with a disinterested gaze. "How did you catch me, by the way?"

"Hey look – this is what you need to be worried about," she said pointing to a pile of parchment on the desk. "Your next assignment. The Knight Bus job is over now. It's bedpans at St. Mungo's or cleaning the Thames trout from the gutters of Knockturn Alley – you decide," she said, still angrily tapping her index finger.

Draco leaned back and looked away for a moment while considering his options. The Malfoys had donated money to St. Mungo's and his father had once done a favor for Hippocrates Smethwyck, the head healer. Draco felt Smethwyck might be able to return the favor.

"I'll take the bedpans Granger. Don't like working outside this time of year."

"Draco, it's obvious you don't like working any time of year," she said, fishing a piece of parchment out of the pile. She retrieved the parchment and copied something onto a note and handed it to Draco.

"That's the person you'll have to see for your work assignment at the hospital," she added. Draco looked at the note and had to fight off a grin. It was Hippocrates Smethwyck.

The anger having passed by as quickly as a summer storm, Hermione looked at Draco now with genuine concern. "I really have no idea what you'll be doing. Maybe it won't be too bad Draco."

Draco nodded without the least bit of worry. "Yeah – maybe you're right."

Still perplexed with the man in front of her, she had to ask, "Why did you do it Draco?"

"Why did you not send me to Azkaban Granger," he asked looked at her firmly.

"If I answer your question, will you answer mine?" she replied.

"I don't know that I can – that's the best I can do for now."

"Well, that's not good enough Draco."

She had switched back to pissed off. And back to wearing the boring work robes this week. Granger had definitely filled out in the right places since school days. He fondly recalled their previous meeting. He almost lost it that day when she sat down in front of him and the lapels of the jacket fell open. His greedy eyes quickly raced down the creamy skin into a warm crevice of cleavage and down to the limits of the decorative lace bra. The legs were also nice and fit , encased in dark slick hosiery. Narrow ankles, nice gams, yep the whole package was good. But now it looked as if things were back to step one.

"I'm sorry. I really am. So... are we back to the canteen for our next meeting?"

With a look of reluctance, she nodded.