A/N: The story continues... finally. Time has a way of just getting in the way of things :)
Hermione sat in her kitchen, hands tightly wound around her mug of black tea. She exhaled loudly. "So there you have it."
Harry let out a low, staggered whistle. "Now there's something I never thought I'd hear. You sure you didn't hit your head when you fell that night at the ball? It was all downhill from there, wasn't it?" He smiled apologetically as he leaned back in his chair, regarding her with interest.
Hermione supposed it was the most tantalising gossip she had given him. Ever. "Yes, well, I guess one can never be sure in an age of seamless memory charms," she half-joked. Visuals of Lucius' assessing stare flashed before her.
"And Lucius reckons you might be a contender for the next Mrs Malfoy?"
Hermione sent him a warning glare.
"Sorry." He straightened his glasses and smiled back at her. "You have to admit, it's a little funny."
Hermione pursed her lips, not ready to see any lighter side to it. "Lucius showing up at my office was quite the opposite, really. He even had the audacity to comment on how untidy it is!"
"Well, there's really only one thing to focus on here. How do you really feel about Malfoy? The way you went about telling him you want more at his office is not going to cut it."
She was too scared to even think about the question, her shoulders slumped as she stared back at her companion with hesitant eyes. What did she feel? Malfoy had certainly stirred all sorts of feelings – some rather grating.
"C'mon, Hermione, it's not a difficult question for one smart witch."
"Ha! It's not an easy one either." It was annoyingly complicated, in fact.
"Rubbish. You know what I think?" He took a rather loud sip from his mug just to keep her waiting.
Hermione rolled her eyes. It was as if he were about to make a startling revelation.
"I think you've fallen for the sod and you're scared as hell."
"I'm not scared!" Hermione outright declared.
Harry chuckled. "But you've fallen for him."
Silence fell through the room. "You've been dancing around with the dilemma in your head all the while playing cat and mouse with Malfoy." He frowned. "Just not sure who is who, though. Malfoy is more of a ferret."
"Harry!" Hermione smiled and let out a small sigh. He had caught her out so swiftly there was no point fighting it. Fighting herself, really. "It's just so messy, especially with work. And Lucius! He's completely thrown me into a spin. He made me out to be such a single-minded person. You should have seen the way he manipulated the conversation. Quite genius really, and so utterly infuriating."
"That's Lucius being self-entitled. Nothing new." He dismissed. "This is really about you, Hermione."
Since when did Harry become so wise? "And how do you suppose I deal with it? Malfoy has been avoiding me, and I'm certainly not going to be making a trip to his office any time soon." The last encounter was still a sore point.
Harry shrugged. "Just be open. At least you know you'll see him at the launch, and you will know what to do."
They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, Hermione lost in her thoughts while Harry was quietly musing his return.
"It's good to see you, Harry," Hermione said as she stood to place her now empty mug in the kitchen sink. "You're so fit, these days," she commented, laughing lightly. He would melt any girl's heart.
"You're welcome." He gave her a knowing wink.
They turned in for the night. Harry on her transfigured couch, Hermione wrapped up in her duvet, and Crookshanks on top of her feet.
The morning was a slow start. Hermione and Harry sought out a breakfast spot in Muggle London before the Daily Prophet would catch wind of his return, and she let herself be a little late to work. The crisp air hinted at the change of seasons approaching and was simply blissful as the morning sun sat low above them. Her mood was feeling hopeful.
"Shall I drop you off at the Muggle entrance?"
They were feeling nostalgic and Harry hadn't been to the Ministry in a long time.
"Why not," she replied. "I'm pretty sure it's much the same, though."
It all seemed to come undone, however, the moment she exited the lift at her office floor. There was an unwavering tension about the place. Hermione walked past a flurry of memos, wondering if she had missed something.
"Daria, everything alright?" she asked.
Daria, acting somewhat flighty, motioned her into the empty meeting room, shutting the door.
She frowned. "Have you read the Prophet this morning?"
Hermione simply shook her head, suddenly feeling wary. Her routine was out of sync and she normally would have at least flicked through it by now.
"Good. That's good."
"Daria, what's going on?"
"Well– uh… there has been an allegation of corruption."
"And?"
"It involves Malfoy Corporation," she said sympathetically.
"What–" Her mind was ahead of her mouth as it started to reel into possible collateral damage that was coming her way. "–happened?"
Daria gave her a wavering glance. "It appears Draco Malfoy, his chief financial advisor, a Mr Henry Pignon, and a few people from the Ministry licensing department have been called in for questioning," she said finally, her feet shuffling nervously.
"What on earth–" The sudden lump present in her throat was making it difficult for her to speak. A wave of nausea washed over her as realisation hit. This was not going to be good at all.
"Hermione?"
She vaguely felt Daria's gentle hand on her shoulder. "Am sure it's just one big misunderstanding," Daria said. "Percy sent a memo around. The Minister is giving a press conference at midday."
She was definitely not waiting until midday to find out what was going on. She really wanted to yell at the universe for its timing, especially after such a nice morning with her best friend.
Ignoring her assistant attempt to calm her, she stepped away and opened the door, walking past the wandering glances of nearby colleagues. The Prophet on one desk caught her eye as the owner looked up at her sheepishly. She closed in on him.
"Mind if I borrow this?" she deadpanned, grabbing the paper without waiting for a response.
He nodded belatedly. It wasn't until she was in the lift all alone, and that was a feat in itself, that she unfolded the damned newspaper.
'Malfoys exploit Ministry for muggle gains,' read the headline. It must've been a slow news day for the copywriter; Hermione glared at the page. She read on: 'Corruption of public office uncovered by the Prophet.
'The Prophet has gained access to official documents confirming the grant of several licenses to Malfoy Corporation that appear to have been issued outside appropriate protocols. The Prophet's investigative reporter, Sebastian Parker, has further uncovered evidence of graft linked to Malfoy Corporation involving key figures of public office…the Ministry's history of corrupt practices involving key public figures may not have quite died out with the new Minister…'
Oh the nerve! She continue reading, unaware that the lift had stopped at her destination. It read like a sensationalist editorial. She knew however, that the Ministry was very cautious about public perception.
"You getting off here, Ms Granger?"
She looked up at a portly figure regarding her curiously. "Yes, thank you, Mr Prescott." She gave a small nod and scurried out, avoiding eye contact.
Percy spotted her ten feet away, and quickly stood, shaking his head ever so slightly to signal her away. Hermione glanced at the Minister's door. It was shut.
"Hermione, it's not a good time. There's a press conference at midday, the Minister is being briefed."
"Percy, I don't want to see the Minister. Is there anything you can tell me about this?" She motioned to the paper in her hand.
He frowned. "You're going to have to wait till the press conference, Hermione."
"Please, Percy. My reputation is riding on this, too. My department contracted Malfoy Corp – the ifirst/i direct business arrangement with the company under the current Minister." She could not emphasise it more.
Resigned he leaned forward. "The Minister's had a grilling from the Legal and Auror departments. I can't glean how serious it is at this stage, I'm afraid."
"And Draco Malfoy?" She had to ask, her stomach was doing all sorts of nauseating churns.
Percy shrugged. "All I know is he's being questioned by aurors this morning. I've been completely kept out of this one." He was trying to dismiss her.
She opened her mouth again.
He seemed to pre-empt her next attempt at fishing for information. "Hermione, as far as I know, the launch party is still going ahead…unless an arrest is made."
She read between the lines. Unless there was sufficient evidence to incriminate Draco beforehand. He was bound to take the hit for his company. Hermione sighed. "This is all my fault," she muttered. She had practically handed Sebastian Parker a contact in the licensing department on a silver platter.
"Why would it be your fault?" he quizzed.
As much as it pained her to know that Malfoy's company might be involved in the most blatant kind of corruption, she could not envisage him being embroiled in something so distasteful. Malfoy would never stoop so low… would he? She was so conflicted.
"Never mind. Thanks, Percy. I suppose I'll be at the press conference."
At that moment, the Minister's heavy office door swung open, and a parade of dark-robed austere Ministry employees stepped out. Hermione recognised a few from the legal department. She inwardly cringed. Percy left her and walked into the Minister's office, quill in hand.
She followed the others to the lifts, keeping a healthy distance, but hoping to catch any hallway gossip. The two aurors in mahogany robes stood apart from the others, whispering quietly.
"...need a thorough evaluation…meeting with Parker."
Hermione strained to get the context, and one must've sensed her presence as he glanced behind his shoulder, directly at her. It took her a moment to realise it was Terry Boot.
He smirked. "Hi, Hermione." He acknowledged.
She knew it was to alert his colleague, who turned to gaze at her. She nonchalantly nodded once at them both. No use feeling awkward.
All three of them waited for the others to get into the first lift, before stepping into the second. It was a little stifling, she mused. She had to speak up.
"Terry, how is Helen?" He had married a girl, two years his junior at Hogwarts, last year. Ginny had introduced them when they had run into her in Diagon Alley.
"She's great. We're pregnant." He beamed, his sense of professionalism melting away.
"Oh, congratulations!"
"She has an invite to your launch – I bought her a subscription." He offered. "She's very much looking forward to it. I expect it will still go ahead; backlog of work, you know how it is."
She smiled.
His colleague didn't look pleased.
"Never a dull moment," she replied, quietly relieved, fiddling with the Prophet in her hand.
"You can say that again."
She could see that he wanted to say more, but he was careful around his colleague.
"Sebastian Parker must be some reporter." She could only try.
"More like an opportunist," the quiet one muttered to no one in particular.
"We're very familiar with Parker," Terry said. The lift stalled and the doors opened to their floor. "Well, bye then."
Hermione was left feeling baffled. The aurors hardly seemed worried compared to the legal officers.
The hall was filled with reporters. Hermione tried to stay clear of them, choosing to stand in the back of the room, her head lowered. She couldn't explain why she felt so exposed, like she was somehow linked to the whole ordeal. She figured it was because she was socially acquainted with both Parker and Malfoy.
"Do you suppose there'll be any announcement?" Daria whispered.
Since her interchange with Terry, she felt a little more at ease. She shrugged. "Other than an acknowledgement of the allegation, I doubt it."
They watched the Minister walk to the lectern, Percy following and standing behind him to the left. The camera flashes went haywire.
"I have called this press conference because the Ministry takes allegations of corruption very seriously. As Minister, I am disappointed by news of suspected behaviour that goes against the Ministry's code of conduct.
The Ministry has a good working relationship with many companies and we wish to continue to strengthen ties to support our community. We have worked tirelessly and have stringent policies and protocols that all employees and contractors must follow. These continue to apply and are constantly scrutinised for areas of improvement…
We have every confidence that Malfoy Corporation will cooperate in a thorough investigation to ensure no compromise of public confidence in the Ministry. We have our top aurors looking into the matter, and in the meantime, business will continue as usual while we provide parties the opportunity to respond.
Thank you."
Hermione and Daria snuck out before the hounding of questions.
"Well, I suppose there is some good news there," Daria said.
She shut herself away from the world for the rest of the day, contemplating how it all became some complicated, and hoping, much to her surprise, that Malfoy was okay.
Hermione arrived home that night to find an Owl waiting – a distinct seal visible on the message it was carrying. She nervously plucked it away from the onyx-feathered messenger, giving it a gentle pat. Tentatively, she unfolded it.
Can we talk?
Yours, DM
Her heart thudded. She stood contemplating her next move, Harry's assessment of her recent antics coming to mind. 'He clearly wants to see you,' she thought, before walking over to her desk, pulling out a small piece of parchment.
My Floo is open.
-H.
She quickly showered and changed, knowing he would take his time. Just as she put the kettle on, she heard her fireplace roar to life. She inhaled and turned toward her living room.
He stood awkwardly, taking up almost too much space, his face drawn from worry.
She felt just as uncomfortable, her brain relentless in reminding her of Lucius' entirely unfair observations.
"Hi."
"Hi," he said, finally.
"Can I get you a drink?"
"Whiskey," he replied gruffly. "Please," he added.
Hermione nodded, trying to ignore the whistling kettle from the kitchen, interrupting the silence around them. She went to her cabinet and pulled out a bottle and two tumblers, returning to the couch.
Half expecting he would take it as a sign to follow, she sat down and placed the glassware on the coffee table. The sealed bottle was not giving way; a second strained twist failed. She felt his hands around hers as he took it from her hands and gave it a stiff turn. Clockwise.
He smirked.
She rolled her eyes, watching him generously poor the gold liquid. "Easy, Draco."
He raised a brow at her. "I've had one hell of a day. I would say that is a relatively light quantity for the error of my ways."
She picked up one of the tumblers and brought it to her lips.
"How about a toast?" He interrupted.
Hermione glanced up at him. He had remained standing, appraising her.
"Go on then." She waited.
He straightened up, looking about the room, then back at her. "To our health."
"That's it?" She was almost amused.
"Well everything else has bloody turned to shit," he said, his voice slightly choked. He knocked back the whole glass.
She quietly took a sip from her drink. "I'm sorry," she said finally, the guilt she had felt earlier that day surfacing once again.
"For what?" He ran his fingers through his hair with his free hand.
"I had no idea. Sebastian asked me if I could help him and I referred him to Lavender Brown who works in the licensing department. I didn't think anything of it."
She watched for his reaction.
His eyes softened and he chuckled.
"You're not angry?" she asked, clearly confused.
"Granger, Lavender Brown is the least of my worries and I doubt she would have led him to anything. I've been locked up in a room with two aurors all morning, then with my father who has our whole legal department, and then some, on it.
He exhaled.
"Apparently, I signed a release for a stack of galleons – I have no idea when, or how, and no one can account for it. It just happens to be very close to the amount that snake, Parker, wrote. The Ministry will get onto it soon enough."
So there was incriminating evidence. Hermione didn't want to pry, but she couldn't help herself.
"But how could Sebastian get his hands on evidence to back any of his claims? He would need to be able to verify his sources. There's no way he would have gone that far if the Prophet was convinced it wouldn't have a defamation suit heading their way."
"Oh, they've been clever in not letting him name anyone specific and leave it to the Ministry to sort. This is all about sales for them; breaking news and all that tripe. I wish I had bought that damned paper."
Hermione thought back to her conversation with Terry Boot. He and his colleague seemed more annoyed by the increased workload than anything. Perhaps it was all strategy.
Malfoy sat down next to her, his scent invading her space. He smelled familiar, and comforting. "I should be the one apologising, anyway." He picked up the bottle and refilled his drink. "I've been a prat."
Hermione took another sip from her tumbler, staring at him from under her lashes. She couldn't disagree with that one. Ignoring her entirely was a low blow for her ego. However, it was child's play compared to Lucius' biting words.
"Do you think I'm a workaholic," she asked suddenly, feeling self-conscious.
"Is that a trick question?" He half grinned, looking somewhat bemused, despite his tired state.
She downed the rest of her drink, her fears confirmed. To hell with it. "Could you ever see me as more than workaholic Hermione Granger, all about her career in muggle relations and nothing else?"
"Well I can certainly think of other things," he said, his tone suggestive.
"Great." She stood up and walked into her kitchen. She could feel her eyes welling up. The last thing she wanted was Malfoy to see her cry. Especially when he was the one who looked thoroughly exhausted. She switched on the tap to rinse her glass as a distraction.
"Everything alright, Granger?"
Was she so one-dimensional? She lifted her hand to wipe the tear that had escaped. She sniffled reflexively.
"Fine." She was so unconvincing.
He paused. She could hear him shuffle toward her. "I promise not to get arrested at the launch. We have negotiated to avoid it happening. I wanted to tell you in person, as I knew you would be worried."
There he was again, assuming she was all concerned about work. She exhaled. "I don't care," she said stiffly, turning to face him. "I don't just care about work, you know."
He looked positively confused.
She didn't blame him.
"Well, you do have a lovely shoe collection." He tried to make light of the situation.
She smiled wryly. "Shoes are a distraction."
"They certainly are."
"That's not what I meant." She huffed, her hand on hips. He was infuriating.
His demeanour turned serious. "What do you care about?" he asked, stepping forward.
She gave him a hard look, hoping her eyes said it all. If there was any opportunity to tell him how she felt, it was now. "How can you not know," she practically whispered.
"I want you to tell me," he said, he voice lowering also, like they were in on a secret.
Hermione closed her eyes, her stomach tightening. He stood stoically, perfectly still, waiting for her to speak.
"I have no idea how or when, but your father might have something to do with it."
"My father?"
"He came to my office."
"He what?" He seemed visibly disturbed.
"He wanted to know what my long-term plans are. He said I was clearly not interested in you beyond–" She lifted her hands up to gesture quotation marks, "–office-hour frivolity."
"And how do you feel about that?" Malfoy asked, his demeanour determined to seek out an answer.
"It depends." She lifted her hand to grab hold of his. It was warm and rough. She laced her fingers in his, wondering where the last few weeks had gone without his touch.
"On what?"
"On you." She looked up at him, her gaze shifting momentarily to his lips. "Do you see me as more than a workaholic Hermione Granger?" she asked again.
"You're Hermione Granger." He leaned in his lips grazing her earlobe. "Perfect, Hermione Granger." He bought his hands around her waist and pulled her flush against him. "Granger, you'll be the death of me."
"Not unless you get arrested, first." She clung to him, feeling his warmth permeate through her.
"If I am, will you be there to take care of me?" he asked quietly.
"Do you need me to?"
"Yes," he admitted.
"Then I'm here, Draco. I'm here."
A/N: I feel that my writing style has changed, somewhat. Hopefully, the evolution of my take on the famous duo remains on point.
