A/N: Thanks again to you all. I appreciate all of the feedback so much.
It would be another three weeks before Harry's shift guarding the filing room of the Wizengamot Administration Services office. He refused to switch shifts, as it would arouse too much suspicion. And Harry made it very clear that suspicion would not be tolerated.
"I would not only be fired, I would be put on trial for this, you know."
"We know, we know." Ginny was practically dancing in her chair.
"Come on, Harry," Hermione said. "We've done worse." She winked at him.
"Yes, but that was for good! This is just… selfish."
"Okay," Ginny said. "You go ask Draco Malfoy what his deal is."
Harry rolled his eyes. He told her that it was possible there would be nothing useful left in the Admin office. Once the memories were examined, and final determinations made from them, they were transferred to the Department of Mysteries. You could only retrieve a memory from the Department of Mysteries with the permission of the Minister of Magic.
"But his trial was months ago," Ginny said. "Will there still be memories of his that haven't been reviewed?"
"Oh, yes," Harry chuckled. "We may have magic, but we're still the government. Everything moves slowly. His memories of the night Dumbledore died probably won't be there, probably examined immediately, but anything else pertaining to upcoming Death Eater trials might still be stored."
Hermione nodded, chewing on the inside of her cheek. What exactly was it that she hoped to find?
The next week moved slowly. She only saw Draco twice. Once in the lifts the next day, looking exhausted and gaunt, and again on Friday in the Atrium. He caught her eyes both times, and she looked away.
That Saturday at Cornerstone, Morty brought downstairs a large box, letting her know if she found any extra time, he'd appreciate her stocking the new shipment. She opened the box and found the new Mattie McHandry werewolf book.
She closed her eyes and sighed. After stocking the shelves, she would have to notify those who pre-ordered the book. Including Narcissa Malfoy.
She dilly-dallied. She cleaned. She balanced the books. She tried to chat with the hag who stared at her with wide, violet eyes, and then scuttled away. Finally, she wrote to all others on the pre-order list. Once it was getting closer to five o'clock, she figured there was less of a chance that a Malfoy would stroll into Cornerstone within the next hour.
Morty's owl flew back in through the back window, and Hermione attached the very last letter to her leg. She'd written one letter from Hermione J. Granger, friend of Narcissa Malfoy. She'd crumpled that and tossed it. Then she'd written another from Cornerstone, with a post script from Hermione Granger, wishing Narcissa happy reading. She'd tossed that one, too. She settled on a generic letter, just as the last twenty or so pre-orders had received. There was no indication that the letter was from her, except for the fact that Narcissa knew Hermione's handwriting.
She watched the owl fly off and busied herself, peeking at the new book. Fifteen minutes later, Narcissa's grand owl flew in, dropping a note on the windowsill, and waited.
Hermione snatching up the note, praying that it didn't say "thank you, I'll be right in" or "Draco is going to drop by tomorrow."
Morty,
Thank you very much for letting me know that the McHandry book is in. Please send it back with the owl and bill it to the account.
Narcissa Malfoy
Hermione read it twice. The owl clicked its beak at her and she shushed it. It was addressed to Morty, even though she knew Narcissa recognized Hermione's handwriting. It also lacked the "Yours, Narcissa Malfoy" that Hermione knew to be Narcissa's signature. There was truly nothing wrong with the letter, but Hermione still felt like an ex-boyfriend had just asked her to box up his things and mail them.
Ginny forced her out on a date the following evening. One of the Harpies had a brother that was rather fond of books and was currently working on Centaur relations in Germany, and Ginny had managed to set the two of them up on Sunday evening.
Evan was fine. He was nice. He was quite handsome, really. But she'd considered him… an afterthought. They set up a time to meet up next month when he was in town again, but once the evening was over, she'd already forgotten what date they'd decided on.
Thankfully there had been no paparazzi around for the date. Hermione wasn't sure which was worse though, Rita Skeeter's version of events, or Ginny's.
"And he told Amanda that it went well and he's excited to see you again next month!" Ginny was pouring tea and forcing Hermione to relive the date Monday night.
"Oh, that's nice. Yes, it was a lovely evening." Hermione smiled.
"Lovely?" Ginny's eyes sparkled as she set down a cup in front of Hermione.
"Yes, lovely," she said. Ginny waggled her eyebrows at her and Hermione smiled. "I don't know what you want me to say Ginny! Nothing exciting happened."
"Well, let's hope something exciting happens next month!"
Hermione sipped her tea and asked Ginny about the match that coming weekend.
The next day Hermione arrived at her desk to find a memo waiting for her. She put down her bags and opened it, praying.
Prayers not received. Robards wanted her assistance upstairs. Today… was not her day.
She knocked on Aiden's cubicle wall. He was looking over a file and eating a plum.
"Oi!" He smiled. "The Golden Girl has arrived!"
She scowled at him. "Did you happen to get a notice from Robards this morning?"
"Nope." He chewed. "Does he want your brilliant mind upstairs today?"
"It looks like." She frowned at the note. "Well, I will see you later today, I guess." She turned, heading for the lifts.
"Hey!" Aiden called. "Rosenberg's last day is Thursday."
"As in the day after tomorrow?" She blinked at him. "Already?"
"Yep," he said. "She's going to be having a little celebration at the café down the street after work."
"Oh, very nice. Thanks for letting me know." She tried to leave again, and his voice stopped her.
"Hey, er…" She watched him twirl his quill. "A few of us are thinking of heading to a pub or two after the shindig. Would you want to come with?"
There was something different about his eyes as he asked. She said, "On a weeknight?" and lifted a brow at him.
He smirked. "Come on. Live a little, Granger."
She blinked at him. "I'll… I'll have to see how I'm feeling on Thursday. Maybe." He smiled at her. "Thanks for inviting me."
"Sure," he said. "Have fun upstairs!"
As she hopped in the lift she was still trying to decipher Aiden's invitation. Was it a date? Was it a small group? Did she even want to go?
She waved to Katie Bell as she exited the lift with a gesture that said "I'll come by later," and headed to Robards' office.
"Miss Granger!" Gawain Robards stood from his desk. "We're so honored that you would assist us again this week."
Hermione's eye twitched hearing "this week" instead of "today."
"Good morning, Mr. Robards," she said, shaking his hand. "I'm honored to be asked."
"We've got more of those runes popping up, and I'd prefer having those whose minds are still bright with their Hogwarts educations to work through them, then those of us who are thirty years behind or so!" He patted his chest.
Hermione smiled. She could possibly see working for Mr. Robards. They had a good rapport and he seemed to get along well with Harry.
"I must confess, Miss Granger," he continued, "that Mathilda did mention that you are looking into applying for new positions."
"Yes, I am thinking of making a change."
"Well, I hope you keep us in mind. Draco Malfoy's position will be open in December, and we need someone just as bright and analytical to step in."
Hermione smiled and told him she was thinking about it. She still had hope – foolish hope – that she would be directed somewhere other than the conference room at the end of their meeting, but of course, Robards bid her a good day and told her Mr. Malfoy would fill her in.
Hermione dragged her feet to the conference room. She knocked, out of politeness, and opened the door to find Draco standing over the table, creating piles of paperwork on the table, quill bit between his teeth, hair falling into his eyes. He looked up at her and she cursed him. But he was surprised to see her. He removed the quill from his mouth.
"Robards summoned me."
He looked away and scratched his jaw. "I told him I had it under control."
Hermione stood in the doorway. "Well, I'm here now."
She took a breath and moved to set her notes and quill on the edge of the table. Draco clenched his jaw and moved aside for her to join him in looking at the paperwork. He explained that the D.M.L.E. had been intercepting messages passed in Knockturn Alley and other disreputable locations that identified the location of dark object trades or meeting spots. Similar to the other cases she and Draco had worked on, they had begun using runes to communicate to throw off the Aurors. Robards was interested to know if these messages were related, if there was someone "in charge."
As he talked, explaining his progress and his current questions, he pointed at piles of paperwork with long fingers and gestured to the runes book, and Hermione was struck again at how good he was at this. How easily he took charge of a room and presented a problem, presented solutions, and presented a course of action.
But he hadn't looked at her once.
After thirty minutes of Draco returning to what he was reading when she walked in, and Hermione starting from the beginning, reading through the notes and reports from the first interceptions forward, she threw down her quill, pulled her wand and turned to the wall at the far side of the room. She removed the "inspirational" pictures and the plaques, pointed her wand at the table and pasted the messages on the wall, in order.
As one flew out of Draco's hand, he said, "What are you doing?"
"Trust me. It's very helpful."
Several hours and dead ends later, the Rune Wall had expanded and now had a life of its own. She and Draco generally worked in silence unless one of them had a new thought. She was in the middle of listing all the different possible translations for one rune set, when she realized that the hairs at the nape of her neck were standing on end. Draco was watching her. She swallowed and continued writing until his voice shattered the silence.
"It was a mission. From the Dark Lord."
She gathered herself before tearing her eyes off the page and looking up at him. "What kind of mission?"
He was leaning back in his chair and if she didn't know any better, she'd assume he was slouching. But she knew Malfoys didn't slouch.
"The worst kind." He clenched his jaw. She didn't dare ask him what that meant.
"So, after finding an empty house… you decided to do some redecorating?"
He swallowed, and she watched his throat move. His eyes cast down on the papers in front of him.
"That was Yaxley's design."
Yaxley. He wasn't alone.
"But your blood?"
He gave the table a rueful smile. "Why spill his own?"
She was realizing she had no idea what "truth" looked like on him. Not that he'd always lied, but she just had no previous conversation to draw upon. But there was something here not being said.
She watched his eyes, followed the path of his straight nose, down to his tight lips, found the tension in his jaw.
To buy, to sell, to save.
With his eyes still on his notes, his mouth opened. "What other secrets did my father spill to you."
She blinked. He assumed Lucius told her about the blood on the wall. How strange. It was a week and a half later, and Draco was still trying to piece together her conversation with Lucius. Then she remembered he wouldn't get a chance to ask his father directly until December. One visit a month.
"Your father didn't tell me anything about that," she said, and his eyes flipped up to her. "You told me not to go home. So, of course, I went."
He frowned at her as a knock rapped on the door.
"Hey, Malfoy." Harry stepped into the room, looking down at paperwork in his hands. He looked up, seeing Hermione there. "Oh, uh… You're helping again?"
"Robards sent for me," she responded. She sent Harry a look that said, "I'm fine."
"Er, well. There's been another message intercepted."
Draco and Hermione jumped from their chairs and raced for the pages in Harry's hands. Hermione grabbed it first and held it in front of her, reading over the scribbles and piecing in the details they'd gleaned from the other messages. She could feel Draco reading it over her shoulder.
"Well, this fits with the Northwest Germanic, but this over here fits the Scandinavian."
"We'd ruled out the Scandinavian," Draco said. "It must be the Germanic."
"But now that we have this, we can't rule out Scandinavian." Hermione ran back to the table to start cross-referencing her notes, while Draco plucked the message from her hand.
"Oh," she heard Harry say. She looked up, and Harry was looking at the Rune Wall. "You… made a Wall."
"Does she do that a lot?" Draco asked Harry.
Harry looked at him with a smile. "It's a recent thing." Hermione looked up at him, and he was giving her a mischievous grin. "Are you two pausing for lunch?"
She saw Draco check his timepiece and she did the same. Ten past noon.
"Oh, er, yes," she said. "I suppose so."
Draco quickly returned to his chair, organizing notes.
"Café?" Harry said. And Hermione could see the croissants dancing in his eyes. She nodded and Harry turned to Draco. "Malfoy? Are you hungry?"
"Thank you, but, no. I have a prior engagement." Draco made a final note and began packing up.
She told him she'd see him after lunch, and left the room with Harry, who rushed off to set down his paperwork and grab his coins. Hermione wandered to Katie Bell's desk to see if she was still there.
"Hermione Granger." A silky voice.
Hermione turned and found herself face to face with Katya Viktor. She felt rooted to the spot as Katya glided toward her. Katya smiled. Damn her. She was stunning.
"Hello..." Hermione tried to say more but was caught trying to figure out if Katya's eyes were hazel or honey.
"Hello, I'm Katya." White, white teeth. "I've so wanted to meet you." A perfectly manicured hand reached out, burgundy nails. Hermione shook it. "I'm a friend of Draco's."
"I... Yes, hello. I'm Hermione." How idiotic. And her nails were chipped.
"I've been dying to meet you, but Draco says you are so busy!" She laughed and the sound warmed the space. She lacked the harsh accent of Viktor Krum. "But, of course you are! You're Hermione Granger!"
"I… I am."
"I must say," and Katya moved her sparkly purse under her arm as she leveled an intent gaze on Hermione. "I have been following you very closely over the years. All of Durmstrang was so interested in the fifteen-year-old who had caught Viktor Krum's attention!" She laughed and touched Hermione's arm lightly. Hermione felt very stiff, and wondered if this was some kind of spell…
She continued, "But then I kept seeing your name in the papers and you were always doing something wonderful like saving a species, or you'd taken on dark wizards all by yourself and I…" She paused and shook her head. "I'm so sorry, I'm gushing! I've just so wanted to meet you."
Damn her. She was intoxicatingly lovely, too.
"I… Well, thank you. It's nice to meet you as well." She smiled and felt very dull. "I've heard so much about you."
"I'm sure that's a lie!" she laughed. Always laughing. "There's not much to hear!"
Katya pushed a lock of hair behind her ear.
Beautiful. Charming. Graceful.
Just then, she heard the door to the conference room open. She turned, and saw Draco's face at the very moment he realized that she and Katya were meeting. He paused with his hand on the door, coat tucked under his arm.
Prior engagement.
"Draco!" Katya cooed. Her voice was excited without the shrill quality that Hermione's could get. "Look who I finally got to meet!"
She watched as Draco opened his mouth, looking between the two women in the hallway. Eyes neutral, with a smile that didn't pull his cheeks.
"Wonderful," he said. "Granger, this is Katya."
Hermione nodded, and Katya said, "I've been gushing. I'm sorry. I just can't believe I ran into her!"
Hermione was spinning a bit. Where was Harry.
"Well," she started. "It was lovely to meet you Katya." And she shook her hand again. "Enjoy your lunch together."
"Oh, but are you free to join us?" Katya said with wide eyes.
Skilled in hosting. Table manners.
She didn't dare look at Draco. "Oh, that's very kind, but I already have lunch plans. Thank you, Katya."
"We will have to have a proper conversation sometime!" Katya smiled. "I would love to take you to lunch and pick your brain. I am currently working with a charity invested in dwarf and house-elf rights and I would love to hear some of your thoughts."
Oh, fuck off Katya.
"That… that sounds perfect." Hermione smiled. She hated her. She hated her because she couldn't hate her.
She glanced at Draco as he cracked his neck and took a deep breath. He placed his hand lightly on Katya's back.
"I'll see you after lunch, Granger." He looked to her briefly before turning to guide Katya to the elevator.
"So wonderful to meet you, Hermione!" Katya sang.
Hermione watched them walk away, Draco's back stiff and Katya swaying, chatting, smiling, perfect-ing.
She tried to remember which book it was she giftwrapped for her.
Harry appeared around the corner.
"God, where the fuck have you been," Hermione snarled and pushed past him.
"What…?"
They went to lunch in the café. Hermione returned upstairs and went right to work. Draco walked in just after one and she could feel his eyes on her the rest of the afternoon. They made headway on the runes, but would have to work in the conference room again tomorrow.
She returned upstairs to gather her things at the end of the day and ran into Aiden.
"How'd it go? Did you solve world hunger by noon?" He winked at her.
She looked at him. Grinning at her. Open. Honest. Nice.
"Aiden, I would love to go out with you all on Thursday. Tell me where to meet you."
His grin turned into a smile.