A/N: This chapter is a little longer than most but the last one was a little shorter. So this way you get your money's worth.
Remember to review and thanks for reading.
10. Wizards on a Train
As morning light began washing into her bedroom window Hermione was under the influence of a dream. And in the dream she had surrendered to Draco Malfoy and had been taken to some betrothal chamber in the bowels of Malfoy Manor. In a satin jet black robe the blond wizard approached her slowly with a languid indifference.
Tossing and turning under the influence of the dream her hair was disheveled and about her face and pillow. She had kicked the duvet nearly onto the floor and she was half on and half off the bed.
In the dream she was passionately kissing the blond wizard and could feel his tongue slipping past her parted lips. Tongues darted and played and then slithered away. She shuddered as the wizard squeezed her buttocks together and she felt callused hands rubbing along the smooth skin of her sides. Erratic and irregular breaths were now coming to her in gasps. Hands continued upward along her sides to gently cup her breasts. He began to thumb her now firm and tender nipples. He tugged the satin lapels and the robe began to open. Incapable of resisting him, she pulled the wizard toward her receptively. Her tummy began to heave and quake. And in the dream she was approaching the very edge of ecstasy. And on the very precipice of bliss she began to teeter and slide over the edge. But being unaware of gravity in the dream, she was sliding not toward bliss but off the edge of the bed. Landing with a heavy KA-WUMP, she hit the floor; her nightshirt was thrown over her head and she was sitting with a bare bum on cold hardwood.
"Damn-it!" she yelled and she pulled her nightshirt down from around her head and straightened her hair. Struggling to regain her composure she sat there for a few moments in stunned silence. The soft silence was also rudely interrupted as the alarm clock on the table began to ring and rattle obnoxiously. Struggling to rise and rubbing her sore bum, she turned off the alarm and headed toward the shower.
The wardrobe was almost back to normal with her regular things. Winky could be heard in the kitchen and had as promised come in an extra day to finish with the clothes. She took a critical look in the mirror. The pageboy was just okay but the dress, heels, and hosiery were well coordinated.
Winky was busy in the kitchen with coffee and crumpets ready and on the table. She was trying extra hard to make it up to Hermione for the inconvenience she had caused.
"Good morning Miss!" she said. "I hope you has time for a bit of breakfast."
"Sure Winky – there's plenty of time," Hermione said cheerfully and more than ready to overlook the blunder.
Hermione took a sip of coffee and instinctively looked around for the morning edition of the Daily Prophet. With it nowhere to be found, she looked over at Winky who was bringing the crumpets to the table.
"Sit a spell Winky and have a crumpet," Hermione said and returned to her coffee. "Say Winky, do we have a paper this morning?"
"Oh no Miss – we don't. With the washing and all I plum forgot to pick one up," she said while nervously nibbling on a crumpet.
Hermione noticed Winky's hands were red and blistered as she gnawed on the bite of crumpet.
"Don't worry about it Winky, I'll get one at work. Say – what happened to your hands?"
Winky looked up suspiciously. "Oh, it's nothing Miss – some hot grease spilled at the castle. That's all."
"Oh," she said and turned up the last bit of coffee in her cup. "Well have a nice day Winky."
‡‡‡‡‡
The queue to the magical toilet passageway was longer this morning since the toilets were flushing slower than normal. An annoying woman in front of her was wearing an obnoxious hat full of peacock feathers. When she turned her head, she would swipe the face of all those around her. Finally, she made it through the toilet passageway, and collected herself to clatter in heels down the long marble floored atrium. Since she had agreed to a dinner date with Malfoy, thoughts of Ron had been burning in the back of her mind ever since. She had no idea how she was going to handle this. It wouldn't be so bad if Ron hadn't brought the subject of marriage up over dinner a few months ago. She had convinced him they weren't ready. But in truth – what she couldn't tell him was that she just wasn't feeling it.
She was overplaying her fears, she reasoned. Who knows, this thing with Malfoy might end abruptly after one dinner date. But something was screaming in the back of her mind that Draco wouldn't let her off the hook so easy.
The first unusual occurrence of the morning, if you didn't count the odd look from the lift operator, was Harry's expression on this morning. When they passed in the halls, he rolled his eyes, grinned from ear to ear, and shook his head as he passed.
The second brought real butterflies to her stomach. She almost had 'good morning' out of her mouth as Ron approached her in the hall. Without an acknowledgment of any kind, he simply walked past her without saying a thing. Frozen, she stopped and turned around to watch the ginger haired wizard simply walk away with nary a word.
It was going to be bad morning – the writing was on the wall – and she wasn't too surprised to see the note on her desk.
Hermione,
Please come to my office immediately.
Kingsley.
Well that was warm, she thought. She quickly threw on her robes and trotted down to Kingsley's office. She passed under the gilded archway and was greeted by Kingsley's glowing new receptionist. The receptionist showed her in and unlocked the large padded door to Kingsley's office. He was partially obscured by the green bankers lamp.
"Good morning sir," she announced and tentatively took a seat on the edge of the large padded chair and remained rigidly upright.
"Good morning Hermione," he said.
"What's all this about sir?"
"Well, I was hoping you could tell me," he said and completely puzzled, Hermione shrugged without a clue.
Kingsley wheeled his chair around to the edge of the large mahogany desk as to make the discussion a little more personable.
"Then you haven't you seen the morning paper?" he asked.
"No sir, I haven't."
He looked back as if her answer troubled him. He reached into a top drawer and slid a copy of the paper over the desk to Hermione.
"Well, you better take a look. It seems everyone else has."
She took the paper with a puzzled expression and unfolded it to look at the front page.
"Oh, Merlin's Beard!" she exclaimed and dropped the paper in her lap as if it were poison.
Kingsley watched her carefully and then turned to fill the pipe with tobacco. He tamped the pipe without looking at Hermione or the pipe.
"It's not what it looks like sir," she said as she finally looked up.
Kingsley reflected on this a moment and nodded slowly.
"This is Rita's job Hermione - to make things look different than they really are," he said with a sad smile.
Hermione couldn't get the image out of her mind. The magical camera had caught them pulling away from what looked like a kiss to face the camera with wide eyed and stupefied expressions. The thin and skimpy top along with the split skirt made her look like a tart. She read the first paragraph of Rita's article.
It appears that Ministry of Magic employee Hermione Granger still has a taste for famous wizards. Her latest prey it seems is none other than Draco Malfoy. The two were seen together in this compromising situation at The Palm restaurant on Monday. There has been no comment from Ms. Granger, but the Malfoy family has appointed a solicitor to represent them in this situation. It appears that Ms. Granger, who was the case officer on Draco Malfoy's public service assignment, has used their case meetings to garner something a little more personal from this wealthy and handsome wizard. No statement has been issued from the Ministry at this time.
"So," Kingsley said and looked as though he was feeling physical pain. "How much if any of this is true? We'll have to make a rebuttal statement very soon."
"None of it sir," she said and put her head in her hands. "None at all."
Kingsley nodded and looked at her with a grimaced expression.
"Hermione it looks like you were kissing him," he said and reached for the pipe. Kingsley watched her carefully and then turned to fill the pipe with tobacco. He tamped the pipe while keeping his focus on Hermione.
At this point Hermione leaned back in the chair. Her eyes were swelling with tears.
"He leaned toward me," she said. "Yes to kiss me I suppose – I had just explained I couldn't be his case officer," she added and shook her head.
Kingsley continued to tamp the pipe, but never took his eyes never off Hermione.
"Yes, go on," he said, knowing full well there was more to the story.
Wiping her eyes, she looked up and gathered herself.
"He had asked me to dinner several times," she said, pausing to wipe her eyes and nose. "I told him I couldn't go with him while I was his case officer," she added.
"And that's why you asked off the case?" Kingsley interrupted.
Hermione pursed her lips and nodded.
"I told him that Cynthia could take over the case..." she said and paused to shake her head. "And that I would go to dinner with him," she added as if it pained her to say the words. "He acted sincere."
Kingsley shook his head and looked at something interesting on the floor.
"If you had waited until you were technically off the case – then we might not have a problem," he said. "As it stands now, Malfoy could use this incident to appeal his case."
Hermione bowed her head.
"I've really messed things up," she said.
"All the way around, it seems," he replied and finally made an effort to light the pipe.
"I'm sorry sir – I really am."
"I believe that," he said. "But the governors are not all happy about this incident. It just looks bad."
"Yes sir – is my job in danger?"
"I think I can say it is not. And I believe you can keep it if you follow directions," he said and finally made an honest effort to light the pipe.
"What do I do sir?" she asked after wiping her nose.
"Nothing... don't make any statements to the press. And don't speak with Draco until we know what's going on here," he said.
"No sir – I won't," she said with bowed head.
"Cheer up Hermione. We'll write this up as a learning experience," he said and managed a brief smile.
"I'll try."
‡‡‡‡‡
Hermione trudged back to her office with the stains of dried tears and mascara running down her cheeks. She had never felt as much of a failure as she did now. To think that her job had been threatened was almost been too much to bear. She closed her office door, which was something she rarely if ever did, and rubbed her face clean. There was a hastily written note on her desk.
It was from Draco.
Hermione,
No matter what Rita's article says or our family's attorneys
have to add to this mess, there's one thing you must know and that is:
I had nothing to do with this.
Hopefully when this things blows over we can talk.
Draco.
Totally confused, she started to dispose of the note and then thought better of it. It might come in handy later, she thought and filed the note away in the top drawer of her desk.
She stayed behind her office door for the entire day. She read over boring case reports until five o'clock finally rolled around. She clicked open the latch of her office door and looked into the halls. Everything was as quiet as a tomb. She walked on the balls of her feet to avoid the report of clattering heels on the marble floors. Just out of the hallway to her office and turning the corner to the lifts...
"You're not sneaking out are you?" came the familiar voice behind her.
She turned to see Harry with a warm smile. She stopped to greet the wizard.
"Yes I was – hello Harry," she said, relieved.
"Looks like you could use a friend?" he said.
"Do I have any left?" she asked.
He laughed as he stood beside her and reached around and gave her a brotherly hug by the shoulder. She could feel the extra wand he carried under the right lapel. The small scar he picked up in Romania was just visible under the five o'clock shadow. He was a much harder version of the man she'd known in school, and probably the only friend she had right now.
"And maybe that friend could buy you a beer," he said.
"Only if I could get something to eat along with it," she added.
"You're on," he said with a warm smile and she felt better already.
They found a corner table at the Leaky Cauldron that was away from the evening regulars. Several old witches recognized Hermione and would look over her way while muttering gossips under their breaths. Harry ordered them a light meal and a couple of beers. Hermione ate a bit of her sandwich and cradled her beer in silence. Harry never pushed her to speak and they enjoyed each others company in silence.
"Have you talked to Ron?" she finally asked.
"A bit," he said.
"Is he upset?"
"He's doing his best acting to pretend he's not," he said.
"I've made a big mess of things," she said and went on to re-tell the whole story. She explained why she was wearing the clothes that made her look like a tart. She explained the kiss, or what would have been a kiss before Rita's camera interrupted the pair. She explained why Cynthia was to take over the case.
"Do you think he planned all this to weasel out of his work?" Harry asked.
"The old the Draco we knew would do that – not so sure about this one."
"He's changed that much?" Harry asked.
"I don't know," she said. "It was very odd, Rita showing up the time she did. But he seemed sincere just moments before."
Harry raised a brow suspiciously and took a long pull on the beer.
"And I may never know," she added. "Kingsley instructed me to speak to no one about this – and especially Draco."
"But you are curious?"
"Yes, I suppose," she muttered.
"Ron mentioned that you two talked marriage – not too long ago," Harry said.
"Ron talked marriage – I listened. Marriage – that's a big step – don't you think?" she said.
"I suppose. Never really considered it of course. How the hell could I," he said lugubriously.
"Oh, don't give me that. You know Ginny would have you back," she said and pulled a face.
He shrugged his shoulders and played dumb.
"So what's she doing now? I haven't heard from her in an age," she said.
"Quidditch I guess. It's all she talks about. She's planning to tryout for the Holyhead Harpies."
"Well, that's interesting. Have you seen her lately?" she asked with perked interest.
"It's been a while. We tried going out a couple of times – just didn't work," he said and reached for the beer.
"Why not?" she asked, not ready to let him off the hook so easy.
"Aw I don't know. It just felt funny – forced maybe. It's like we were supposed to be together, but neither one of us knew why," he said. "Hey... I thought we were here to talk about you."
"There's nothing much else to say. I'll just have to wait and see how this plays out. You're the only friend I've got Harry," she said with a sigh.
Harry placed his hand over hers. "No," he said and laughed. "But sometimes it just feels that way. Things will work out – I'm sure," he said.
Hermione smiled at the wizard who had comforted her like this so many times before.
"Thanks Harry. I hope you're right."
‡‡‡‡‡
The next morning there was a note from Draco on her desk. It was very much like the first one as he pleaded to support his innocence. At the end of the note he asked her to please write back and let him know things were okay. Once again, she placed the note in her desk drawer, along with the first. If this mess did go to court, then the note would plaintiffly support her argument.
The next couple of days were almost like normal. She passed Ron in the hall and did her best to prod him into speaking.
"Good morning Ron – you alright?"
"Hey..." he said with a curt nod and continued to pass without further dialogue.
That evening after work Hermione thought a new book would be just what she needed to help get her mind right. She had seen a copy of a new wizarding mystery in Flourish and Blotts during Christmas that ought to do the trick. She was headed that way when she ran into blind Alice sitting on a small stool just off the wind. Blind Alice or old blind Alice as some called her, would find a place somewhere along the alley and peddle her stalks of Potpourri. She would have a basket full on most days and the customers would introduce themselves or just say hello if they had ever done business with her in the past. Alice would always remember your name and never forgot the subject of conversation on your last visit. She often wore a dusty and crumbled flop hat with a wide brim. Her old woolen frock was tattered and patched but always clean. On cold days she wore her coat that was patched with colors that didn't match. She turned to look with non-functioning eyes as Hermione stopped by her basket.
"Good evening Alice," Hermione greeted the old witch.
"Why, Miss Hermione. I thought that was you," the old witch said.
Hermione picked a stalk and put to it to her nose. She dropped two Sickles into Alice's can. The old witch could immediately tell it was twice what she charged for a stalk of Potpourri.
"You are too kind Miss," the old witch said and nodded.
"Well, the Potpourri smells very good tonight. Good evening Alice," she said and placed the stalk in her bag as she turned toward the bookstore.
"God bless you Miss," said old Alice.
Hermione had taken maybe a half a dozen steps when she heard old Alice call her name.
"Miss Hermione–"
Hermione stopped and pulled a face as she turned to face old Alice.
"Excuse me," she asked.
"May I have a word dear?" she said. Hermione trudged the steps back to old Alice.
"What ails you child – I know it's something?"
"Oh Alice, it's nothing really," Hermione protested.
"Ah, but there's so much more bounce to your step when things are right wid you. Aye, a young thing like yourself should not be dragging like you is," she insisted.
"Well, things at work have been a little rough lately – that's all," Hermione said with an uplifting tone.
"Oh... I feel more – sometimes a sadness in our heart affects our feet the most," she said. Alice reached into the endless folds of tattered clothing. She pulled out a coin-like object with a leather lanyard and stretched her arm to Hermione.
"Here, take this child. It'll help cure what ails ya – it always has for me," said the old witch as she opened a claw-like hand.
"Oh Alice I couldn't – I mean it's yours," said Hermione.
"Oh nonsense. You can give it back to old Alice when things get better," she said and stretched her arm and hand out a little further.
Hermione took the object and Alice smiled a toothless smile. It looked like a round shell of some type and larger than a Galleon. There was a hole in the top for the lanyard and rune-like marking carved around the edge.
"Thank you Alice – I'm sure it will help," Hermione said and went straight away to the bookstore.
‡‡‡‡‡
Like the two mornings preceding it, there was a message on her desk when she arrived at work. It was another note from Draco pleading with her to communicate. That made three. Should she give these to Kingsley? If she didn't, she might not be able to explain why she didn't later. Finally she decided the messages were private. If Draco or his attorney tried to implicate her as the aggressor in this incident, then the messages could help dispute this claim, otherwise she would keep them. There had been no word from Kingsley since the Tuesday morning paper had her and Draco pasted on the front page. If there were any new developments with the incident she was completely unaware of them..
It had been another boring and uneventful day. Harry had dropped by her office and talked smalltalk for a few minutes and asked if she might me interested in something to eat after work. She thanked him but explained she had planned a quiet evening at home with her new book. He looked a little surprised at the answer, and she suspected he was playing middle man between her and Ron. If Ron had anything he wanted to tell her then he could do so himself. His little avoidance maneuvers in the halls were getting old quick.
When she unlocked the door to her flat she could tell Winky had finished cleaning and left early. Winky had been acting a little curious lately and she was thinking it was time for them to have a little chat. Going through the normal habit of changing, she found some comfortable jeans and pulled a warm cardigan over her head. Grabbing some leftovers for a bite to eat, she took the rest of her soft drink into the sitting room where she started a small fire. Pulling a heavy quilt over her legs, she got out her new book, Wizards on a Train and turned to the place-marker The book was about magical espionage during the world war and she was about half way through.
Just as the dark wizard was about to be seduced by the blonde witch for information on the coding device – the doorbell rang.
The really odd thing about that – she didn't have a doorbell! She grabbed her wand from the handbag in her room and approached the front door cautiously. Someone had used a doorbell charm to get her attention. Since the gimmick seemed more humorous than threatening, she cracked the door open a notch to look out. Her wand was pointed defensively through the crack.
"Whoa... no need for that now – just thought I'd stop by."
"What are you doing here?" she asked and lowered her wand.
"Well you didn't answer any my notes and this was the evening for our dinner date."
"I almost lost my job and I shouldn't be talking with you," she said flatly. The blonde wizard dipped his head for a moment.
"Hermione, I had nothing to do with Rita Skeeter – can I come in for minute – we need to talk," he pleaded.
"No Draco – that's impossible now."
"Why Hermione? I just told you I had nothing to do with that," he insisted.
"Draco, did you read the column? Do you know what it said about me? No – no way. And have Rita take another picture of you leaving my flat. Yeah that would do it alright."
"What – you think I came here to set you up – to trick you?" he asked and rolled his shoulders into a shrug.
"Right now... I'm not sure what to think, but I can't be with you. I know that," she explained.
"That hurts Granger. I came here to help square things up and this is what I get," he said dejectedly.
"I'm sorry. I have to be firm on this. Goodnight," she muttered and closed the door.