The Uneventful Story

By Snowflake Imp

Rated: R

Chapter 03

Disclaimer: Why must we fanfic writers be forced to do a disclaimer every time we release a chapter? It's pure torture, it is. What would happen if I just started saying in my disclaimer that Harry Potter WAS mine? And everybody should pay me royalties? Would I get arrested? This experiment will continue in the next post. For now, Harry Potter is not mine. Boo hoo.

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Diary Entry No.49, Vol V

When Malfoy announced that he was to be shacking up, indefinitely, with us, I nearly fainted. US. We barely get through any of our assignments without getting arrested when no one's looking. How are we to survive with someone breathing down our necks all the time? Damn Ministry, don't they understand corners NEED to be cut sometimes; that following "laws" isn't the most practical thing to do sometimes? We deliver results, don't we? What more do they want?

I would have already thought that we're royally screwed if an unbiased, third party manager was assigned to us, but Malfoy? We're dead. Utterly dead. I'M utterly dead.

Oh cruel cruel fates, can't you smile down on me for once!

I'm sure that stupid, inbred, albino little rodent has had it in for me from day one, and now after all those years of plotting, he's going to deliver the killing blow. Oooh, don't think I'm not going down without a fight. I will take you with me if that's what it takes.

Tomorrow morning, I will find Ronald, and he and I will have words.

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"Roooooon! Why! Why'd you do it Ron? I thought…I thought we were friends!" a voiced wailed down the hall in the Department of Internal Affairs.

"I read the dockets! If only one, ONE person nay-ed, the matter wouldn't have passed! WHY RON!" the wailing voice continued, increasing in volume and octave.

"Hermione! Stop it! You're making a scene!" a very, very embarrassed Ron hissed. He looked around frantically, sweating slightly as the crowd was growing bigger.

"N-nothing to see here folks! Heh heh…you know how things go…time of the month….er," he said nervously, a wavering smile plastered on his face.

He quickly clamped his hand on her arm and forcibly dragged her into the office. Slamming the door shut, he turned to her, his face desperate.

"Look, 'Mione, I'm really really sorry, but I HAD to vote yes! Your department is costing this administration thousands of unnecessary Gaellons! Last Thursday's accident really pissed off a lot of people – you should have seen it! It was all so pink and gooey and spiky…..I-I really don't want to think about it anymore." He pause, shuddering. He rubbed the bridge of his nose to ease the pain of the memory. He shook himself.

"A good lot of our people are seeking therapy now – on our money! Anything pink is now banned in certain sectors of the Ministry! You have any idea on how much that's going to cost? This is serious. I can't, in good conscious, just leave your department to its own devices!" He finished, looking at Hermione, hopeful she would see reason. He paled.

Oh no.

Not that face.

That face being when her eyes grew large, sparkling with tears. Cheeks and nose cutely rosey. The wobbly lips.

She delicately dabbed her handkerchief to her eyes. With a sniff, she replied, "But….but why Malfoy? I thought you, out of everybody here, would know that he's out to get me. What happened? What happened to us? " Her voice was perfectly watery, perfectly pitiable.

Ron groaned, shoving his hand through his fiery hair. Do. Not. Let that voice get to you. Or the guilt trip. How many times had he been a sucker to this? Too many to count.

"It was either him, or nobody, 'Mione. I'm sorry, I'm really am. But he's not that bad anymore, trust me. He's still a snarky bastard, and I'd punch his lights out if I ever got the chance, but,…. he's different now. He's…….responsible. He can do this." He sat down next to her, clasping her hand into his.

She coolly pulled it away, turning away from him. Ron sighed. "What can I do to make this right? I can't take back my vote; the decision has already gone through the channels. Please 'Mione, you know I can't feel good again until you've stop pouting."

Hermione secretly smiled. Oh, pouting was the best discovery she had ever discovered, back in 7th year. She kicked herself for not drawing upon this goldmine sooner. Before, Hermione had to fight tooth and nail to get her way with her boys, mostly through yelling, glaring, and lecturing. Success rate was barely over 50, and it took so much effort it barely seemed worth it in the end. She had never resorted to pouting because it seemed so…..weak.

But when she realized she was capable of pouting – something usually reserved for cute, pretty, girly girls – and was damn good at it, things became infinitely easier.

For her, that is.

Just wobble the lips, sniff, bambi-up those eyes, and talk about us, and friendship, and it was smooth sailing. Harry and Ron were the biggest suckers out of all of them to her pouting act – she just needed to push the right buttons. So far, her act has 100 chance of success. This was why Hermione believed females were by far the better sex. Who else could get their way with a choice of being strong OR weak?

Now, for the kill.

"Well….," she said with a sigh. Ron leaned closer, eager.

"It's just that…Malfoy may not be Lucifer's godson to you, but he is to me Ron! He says awful, nasty things, and always, ALWAYS finds way to make me feel bad! He constantly calls me names, and he looks down on me, and he makes everything harder on me, just out of spite," she said tearfully, strategically grabbing Ron's arm.

"He..he's really that horrible with you?" Ron said tightly, tilting her face to meet his eyes.

Hermione blinked, a tear falling tastefully down her cheek. She nodded wordlessly, snuggling her head in the crook of his neck.

Ron's breathing was ragged, his ears reddening. "Don't you worry about a thing, 'Mione, I'll make this right. I'll do whatever it takes to get someone else on the job! You just go enjoy the rest of your holiday, I need to start doing the paperwork. He won't be able to step foot in your department when I'm done," he said fiercely.

Hermione had to school her face into one of sadness turning to hopefulness, not gleeful triumph. "Oh, thank you Ron! I'm so sorry about the things I said – you truly are my best friend!" she threw herself at him, hugging him tightly.

Ron patted her back and lightly kissed her cheek. "Yes yes, I know. You say that every time I give in like a fool," he said ruefully. "Now get out of here, you silly girl."

Hermione winked and blew him a kiss as she sauntered out of his office.

Oh, Malfoy, you thought you won, didn't you?

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"WHAT IS GOING ON!" Hermione practically screamed, her good mood instantly disappearing.

There was moving of desks, papers flying, people running! Hermione was suddenly not in the mood for 'frantic.' Everybody halted what they were doing and turned to her. They collectively shifted backwards, leaving the newbie to stand out in front.

"You!" Hermione barked. "Why isn't anybody working?"

"Um…," the squeaky boy pipped out. "T-the new manager said we h-had to help him move in…..a-and clean up after…ourselves?" he finished nervously, looking to his new co-workers for support.

"I see," she said through gritted teeth. Him? Using her minions to do stupid, meaningless, menial tasks when they had to fracture that poison mod that they found in the alleyways of Berlin two months ago? They haven't got the time!

"Well, you can go tell our new manager he can stick it up his arse!" she declared hotly. She saw the alchemists breathe a sigh of relief. "He has no idea how we work around here, and I'll be damned if he's going to be pushing us around! Back to work my lovelies, we have a poison to break!"

Amidst their cheering – breaking a poison meant playing with spiffing potions – Hermione practically ran over to a hastily renovated office to see a slightly ruffled Malfoy arguing with someone from Supplies via fireplace communication.

" – why can't I get the bloody chair? Do you know who you're denying, you insolent sod!"

"SIR, I understand you're upset, but currently, under the Supplies Distribution Programme, managers are NOT allowed to have executive leather chairs!" the exasperated intern declared. Oh, just a few more months of this and soon, sweet release to managerial training!

"All I can do for you is to send up a nice upholstered swivel chair. Would you like that? Would you like a swivel chair?" The intern attempted a cooing, comforting voice, but it wasn't very good.

"Stop talking to me like I'm fecking 10, boy, or I'll have you out on the streets so fast…-"

"Don't abuse your power Malfoy, it makes you look petty and small," Hermione interrupted. Malfoy whipped his head around and glared.

"Rules are rules, and if you break them, what kind of example are you setting for the rest of us, hm? Mister Watchdog Manager," she continued with a slight smirk.

It looked like Malfoy had to curb himself from launching at Hermione in frustration. After mentally counting to ten, he turned to the fireplace, calmer.

"Fine, send up that damned chair," he grumbled, turning around to focus his attention on other things.

"As you wish, sir," the intern droned, sending a grateful glance at Hermione. She merely smiled and waved him off. The fire immediately died.

"I don't appreciate you butting into my affairs, Granger," he spat while filing some papers.

Hermione instantly retaliated, "I don't appreciate you using my staff as your personal monkeys, either! Getting them to help you set up shop? Telling them to clean up after themselves! We're a poison department Malfoy! We're not here to look pretty!"

"Yes, I can see that's quite obvious," he hissed back, looking at her up and down. Hermione gasped, scandalized. The nerve of this…this…!

She gritted her teeth. Must. Not. Tell him that he's soon to be sacked if Ron did things right. Let the news come as a big surprise. A delicious surprise she would document second by second.

"I bet you say that to all the ladies," she growled. She walked briskly up to him and glared at him. "I don't care what kind of manager you are! I set the rules here and I won't be undermined, do you understand?

"My staff's main priority is to work with poisons and remedies, not cater to your every rich-boy needs. I won't tolerate you changing rules and behavior around this department! You're here to assess damages and funds. Nothing else. Don't you forget that." With that, she turned around and began walking out of the disarrayed office. She would've walked straight out too, if he had not reached out and firmly grabbed her shoulder. Hermione whipped around, smacking his hand off her.

"Don't you DARE touch me, you disgusting man!"

"Calm down Granger! Dammit, take a seat, we need to talk," he bit out, kicking a wooden chair in her direction. She merely glared balefully at it, defiantly remaining standing. Draco let out a huge breath in an attempt at regaining his composure.

"You want to stand in those ugly, and frankly, uncomfortable looking shoes? Fine!" he snapped. Hermione told herself she would not let that comment on her shoes affect her.

"Look, I know we don't have the best…relationship," he said awkwardly, stumbling over the last word like it was some sort of foreign language. Hermione snorted.

"But this is work. I'm trying to make this place more efficient, Granger, can't you see that? And merely sitting around tallying up costs and charges isn't enough! If I see a method that could be changed to help the Ministry, it's within my powers to change it. You won't tolerate me changing things around here? I won't tolerate you clinging onto your old ways like a spoilt child just because you don't like me!" he finished with a jab of a finger in her direction.

"And I'm to believe you're not going to turn the place upside-down just to satisfy your power trip? Yes, some things could be changed to make things more efficient, but you don't know this staff! All the mad scientists, all the A.D.D geniuses, all the reject prodigies from all over the world are here. Normal methods don't work with them! Everyone, including the Ministry's precious money, would benefit if you just don't meddle with something that works!" she explained, exasperated.

"Things most certainly are NOT working! Were you here Thursday! Did you see that…pink….tragedy? I assure you, that bloody incident is clear evidence that this department needs some reform!" Even Malfoy seemed affected by the incident Thursday. Whatever it was. He seemed a bit pale. More than usual, that is.

"Speaking of pink tragedies, what was Thursday all about anyways? No one will tell me." Hermione was peeved with this. Not even Rudy would let her know what had happened. Hopefully Malfoy would let her in on the secret – unless he too appeared to be too traumatized to talk about it.

"You don't need to know about that," he dismissed with a wave of a hand. Yup, traumatized. "In any case, I'm done with this discussion. My judgment of the situation can be trusted and I can make this work. You'll just have to learn to deal with it." He appeared to be in a better mood, as his tone was once again snarky and arrogant.

Hermione gritted her teeth. It was like talking to a brick wall. "The only reason I'm going to not continue this discussion, Malfoy, is not because you say so, but because your very presence nauseates me. If you want to change anything, and I mean anything, down to the miniscule detail, you will bring it up with me first!"

With that, she once again began leaving the office when his voice stopped her dead her tracks.

"Oh, and Granger? Weasley won't be getting rid of me anytime soon," he said confidently, his voice oozing like dark chocolate. "He doesn't have the power. Not this time."

Not daring to turn around, Hermione shakily replied, "I have no idea what you're on about."

She quickly left, not wanting to continue the conversation. She was a terrible liar. Damn! How did he find out so quickly? Or was he merely guessing? Oh damn damn damn! Damn him!

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To: Minister Arthur Weasley

Subject: Retraction of Vacation

Type: URGENT

Dear Arthur, I am writing to you to announce that I have decided to cut my holiday short and will be returning to work promptly tomorrow morning. Please make sure the Data Department record the change correctly. Thank you.

Sincerely,

Hermione Granger

Ministry Department of Poisons and Remedies

Head Alchemist

P.S. – Tell Molly thank you for the lovely pound cake. I ate it all in one sitting.

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Sorry for the short chapter, but that's all I can think of for now! I hope you all are enjoying it! Thanks for the nice comments – I live for them like I live for Krispy Kreme doughnuts. Mmmmm deliciousness. Send more my way!