The Uneventful Story

By: Snowflake Imp

Rated: R

Chapter: 04

Disclaimer: Continued from last time – I OWN HARRY POTTER! NOW PAY ME ROYALTIES! FOR I AM THE CREATOR OF THE KNOWN UNIVERSE AND THEN SOME! (….or not. You know, whichever is convenient for you). Dammit, not mine!

Hermione watched everyone like a hawk, waiting for the tiniest change in behavior. The only person she wouldn't look at was Draco, lest she lose her self-control and begin yelling at him for just being alive. She hated how Malfoy was the only who could make her lose her self-composure at a drop of a hat. Just one word, one look, and she was seeing red. So by ignoring him, she might be able to keep the peace. She thought it was quite noble of her, actually.

There was rustling of papers coming from Draco's direction. A cough. A muffled cough. A "hmmmm." A small chuckle.

Oh for crying out loud….

"What is so amusing?" she asked scathingly, wanting him to know full well she wasn't asking out of friendliness.

"I was reading some past employee reports," Malfoy said with a slight grin on his face, not at all affected by Hermione's bad attitude. He began reading one of them, " '…and frankly, this department doesn't need to have another person with such a nice looking bum. It is distracting and not efficient. Please remedy.' " He turned to look at her with a raised eyebrow, resting his chin on his hand.

As the Ministry was essentially a bureaucratic organization, it was only natural to have monthly/yearly employee evaluations and reports. However, in this department's case, the documents were much more unorthodox than the rest. Hermione flushed. Her staff really, REALLY needed to take those evaluations more seriously. Damned if she let him know it though.

"Well, you're a man, aren't you? Isn't it distracting?" she asked haughtily, sticking her nose in the air a bit.

And then he did something she would rather die than describe later.

He smiled at her.

Predatorily.

His eyes darkened as he lowered his head a little and glanced up at her. His voice deepened. "I find it very distracting," he drawled, his eyes never leaving hers. Hermione felt like she had a cooler of ice water dumped into her body. She had never felt so uncomfortable. To have someone THAT good looking, to look at someone like HER like that…..

She snapped back to reality. That's right! As if he would even look at her like that! He just did it to make her uncomfortable: Oh, look at that frumpy prude Granger blush at my sinful gaze. Ha Ha Ha! She scowled at him.

"Pig," she muttered as she turned back to watching the lab. Draco chuckled and went back to reading the reports.

Hermione decided she could no longer stand being in the same room as Draco, and opted for a nice lunch out in one of the cafes nearby. After a treat of ice cream, she dubbed herself satisfied enough to tackle the rest of the day.

Upon arriving at the Dungeon, she didn't find him at his seat, which made her a tad nervous. She quickly walked up and down the sectors, trying to find him and keep him from mischief. She spotted him speaking with Franco Monteleone, an Italian who was too giddy about fire for his own good.

Franco appeared thoughtful, speaking earnestly with Malfoy. Hermione's thoughts immediately turned to suspicion. Was he spilling about that time she smacked him across the face? Because it really wasn't her fault if one looked at it from an unbiased, third-person perspective. She softly crept towards them, dreading the Hermione-bashing that she would surely come upon.

To her surprise, Franco was having….well, a serious discussion with Malfoy. It was already hard to see Fire-Fly-Franco holding a decent conversation, but Draco Malfoy? The one who believed himself above all other humans and thus needn't waste his time caring about others? The haughty, arrogant, picky, selfish prick who would sooner rip off his own foot rather than lend a helping hand? Hermione was intrigued.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Malfoy, I just can't seem to concentrate when things are like this," he said softly, his Italian accent lilting his voice amorously.

As their conversation went on, Hermione pieced together that apparently, Franco's family was in danger of being deported, so his productivity and concentration was beginning to be affected. Malfoy evidently picked up on this. Hermione was taken aback at how human Draco was acting. He listened to Franco voice his fears for as long as he liked, with patience she never knew he had. It's like…he was actually interested. And she hated to admit it, but when he sat like that, leaning forward, his eyes intense, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration… he looked…well…handso –

"He looks decent," she thought firmly.

Malfoy throughout the rest of the day, focused on Franco's problem – calling leads, informants, people he knew that owed him favors – anybody and everybody he could pull strings with to solve it. He tackled the challenge level-headedly, with a large amount of charm and threats. Hermione then remembered that she had seen this side of Draco before. His behavior brought her back to the days in the war camps. Efficient yet detached.

That was what he was doing now; searching for the enemy, strategizing, organizing enforcements, executing meticulously thought out tactics. It was all very military and looked slightly out of place in an office setting. In fact, not only was he part of the soldiers division that fought in the forefront, he was also a member of the Strategos team that devised and planned attacks against the Dark Side. When the cause benefited him, Malfoy could work harder and better at winning than any other.

Hermione had no illusions that Malfoy, then and now, was helping anybody out of things like compassion and friendship. In the past, Draco realized, for reasons known only to him, he couldn't fight alongside Voldemort; he found this out the hard way, by not being able to follow orders and ultimately fleeing and betraying the Dark Lord. If the Light didn't win the battle, torture and death awaited him.

That was why Hermione was the first to believe that he would be no traitor to the Light and fought to have him join the Order. Behind his back, of course. If he knew that she practically begged the counsel to not lock Malfoy up, she would kill herself rather than see that look on his face. She knew he would one of the key members that would overturn the tide. And she had been right.

Watching him now, she knew things would turn out okay in the end. He hadn't changed. He loved his job – he loved the power, he loved the leadership, he loved the perks. His job now included taking care of her department. Put two and two together, and we have a Malfoy who would fight tooth and nail to make sure things would run smoothly. A father's love protecting his own child probably pales in comparison to Malfoy's urge to survive.

Still, it pained her that he was the one Franco turned to. Didn't she have a more intimate relationship with Franco? Didn't they work together longer, get along better? They had gone out for drinks with the rest of the department, been to office parties together, laughed and cried together. But in a manner of two days, he went to Draco and spilled his heart out.

"Always," she thought bitterly, emotions she thought long dead rising to the surface. "It was always him."

Hermione glared at him, her temples throbbing with suppressed emotions. Her heart thudded painfully in her chest; her face flushed due to erratic breathing. Why must it always be him?

She suddenly snapped out of it, shuddering. The world once again came into focus, the sounds of the office rose back to normal levels. Hermione had to get out of there. Walk briskly down the corridors, she ducked her head low, not wanting to make eye contact with anyone.

She shivered. She…she was supposed to be over this. It was past.

Hermione thought those emotions had faded after the Great Purge. Why were they resurfacing? She felt ashamed. She was better than this. She absent-mindedly slumped into a nearby chair and rubbed her temples. She didn't want to reacquaint herself with her past self. She took a few deep breaths.

She glanced at her watch. 15:45. Her hand was shaking.

Diary Entry No. 50, Vol. V

I thought myself better than this. I am filled with petty emotions. Petty, immature, disgusting emotions. I truly……I….

…I don't know. I don't know what to make of it all. Could I really be that despicable? That low?

Why can't I be like everyone else?

Draco was having a far better day. A fantastic day, in fact. He got to annoy Granger, his position as manager went unquestioned, and he had just solved Franco's home situation. Productivity in the fire bugger should rise as a result. It was a good day.

He was used to people always giving him what he wanted. Doing what he wanted. It came with being a Malfoy. The images of his father, his ancestors, and the tower of wealth he possessed behind him were enough to make anyone cower before him.

After awhile, it began to feel empty. Despite what Potter and Weasely thought, Draco was clear-minded and knew how to look at himself honestly when the occasion arose. He knew what was on people's minds. And he didn't like it. He knew at a young age that if one were to strip him of his family name, of his wealth, was there really so much to respect and fear?

The answer was no. He was petty, uncompromising, short-sighted. Once he saw himself bare, he worked hard to change. He educated himself; he was already ahead of most of his peers due to his wealthy upbringing, and his drive to broaden his horizon was enormous. At Hogwarts, he and Hermione were often point-for-point for the top of the class. He sharpened his wit, his charm to create allies and sources, connections he could rely on based on his own ability to build a relationship.

Now, people came to him for his abilities and talent alone. He was just as revered – no, even more so – now than ever. Everything he had was forged by his own two hands. And he knew it irked his old nemesis Granger to no end. One of her favorite insults in the past was taunting him about daddy buying everything for him, how he'd be nothing without him. Now she can't do anything but steam in her own frustrated soup. Served her right for thinking she was the only one who worked hard for anything.

Malfoy looked around. Where was the little she-devil anyhow? He was certain she was trailing his every breath, but now she just seemed to have disappeared. Interesting.

He casually strolled down the corridors, nodding at people greeting him, stopping to chat with a few people about work related issues. A few secretaries had some non-work related topics they wished to discuss. With a charming smile, he assured them perhaps later, in a more cozy, private setting.

He found Hermione sitting in a hallway, a hand covering her eyes as she breathed shakily. She looked like hell. He felt a need to share this information with her accordingly.

"What's the matter Granger? Miss me that much?" he drawled with a bored expression on his face, leaning against the wall next to her.

She jumped up with a start, and whipped her head around to face him. Draco was surprised at the wide range of emotions that passed through her large chocolate eyes: surprise, anger, panic, finally resignation.

"Malfoy," she greeted him hesitantly. He noticed she took no notice of his jib.

"What are you doing? You don't seem very productive," he said, his condescending tone a bit more forced than usual.

"Wha – I – I'll have you know – how dare you – " she sputtered, her body tensing. "This could have been another vacation day for me, Malfoy, instead I stayed to ensure you don't turn this department into your next house elves cleaning crew!"

He waved his hand out at her dismissively, although a bit relieved she was back to normal. If she went all…emotional on him, he wouldn't know what to do. It would be like a man faced with a cow on his doorstep, pleading him not to eat her son there on his plate. Too surreal.

"Yes well, I don't recall asking for your unnecessary return, and if you were paying attention, I was doing very good deeds. Santa would be quite proud of me," he responded with a smirk.

It irritated her when he dropped muggle tidbits into his everyday speech. It was just so hypocritical. AND he had to be correct in his usage. No fellytone business that allowed her a gap in which to mock him.

"I wasn't aware Santa Claus considered amoebas sentient enough to be added to the 'coal' list," Hermione snapped.

"Ouch, Granger, it sounds as though you have some bitterness in you. Surprising," Draco chuckled back. If for nothing else, arguing with Granger really stretches one's mind.

"Har har har. Original."

"Well, considering your poor memory abilities, I find it unnecessary to create new insults and waste energy."

"Poor memory abilities! Since when!"

"Ahem…."

They both turned to see Alex Grace, with one eyebrow raised. Hermione had the grace to cough embarrassedly, while Draco was unabashed.

"Grace," he said with a nod, turning to him. "A bit too loud, I gather?"

"Slightly," he said not unkindly. He turned to Hermione, who flushed.

"Sorry Alex, I'm a bit….out of sorts lately," she mumbled feebly. Malfoy noticed her new meek demeanor, and didn't like this gentle, wilting Granger one bit.

"It's quite all right, I just wanted to make sure everything was running smoothly," Alex responded.

"Er, well, it is, I think…. that is, it is, to my knowledge," her words tumbled out of her mouth awkwardly. She fidgeted with her blazer lapel. The frumpy, used, non-tailored state of her clothes was suddenly all too clear to her.

Alex looked over at her. "Overseeing the transition is my job, Hermione. You really shouldn't be here."

Her eyes grew wide and she bit her lip nervously. Draco's eyes narrowed. She only did that when faced with disapproval from someone she held in high regard. He knewher. He knew.

"I..I just…," she stammered.

For God's sake….. Draco rolled his eyes. Was there no end to this?

"We won't keep you Grace," Draco cut in. Enough was enough. This was sickening. He firmly grasped Hermione's shoulder. "Come on Granger, there's some funds I want you to go over with me."

With a quick jerk, he pushed Hermione along to the end of the corridor, marching her straight into his office. He didn't fail to notice her silent submissiveness. He slammed the door shut, which jolted her out of her reverie. She looked around and awkwardly patted her hair.

"Done making doe eyes, Granger?" Malfoy sneered. "Don't bother denying anything. I know the signs."

She opened and closed her mouth like an indignant fish. Of all people to know her secret feelings. OF ALL PEOPLE! Did she curse cruel fate yet? Because now would be a good time.

Denying it was a waste of breath. Malfoy was uncannily good at reading people, and more so when it came to women's behavior around men. Her mind raced. She decided to play it cool. And so she shrugged. Which surprised him a bit.

"So what if I do? I don't recall it being a crime," was her nonchalant question.

It wasn't the response he was expecting. Leave it to Granger to constantly surprise him. He was expecting full on denial, which he would gleefully chip away, and then lots of blushing and stammering and promises to keep things a secret. He wasn't expecting such a mature, experienced take on her part.

Well, she was blushing, if it was any consolation to him. It wasn't really, surprisingly.

"I suppose it shocked me, to see the androgynous bookworm falling for such a uninteresting man. But then again, who else would be attractive to you?"

That stung. A lot. But she refused to let him see how much it hurt her. It was a matter of pride.

"Certainly not some disease ridden, over-glorified nymphomaniac man whore," she viciously shot back. Alex was plenty interesting!

He raised his eyebrows. He could almost see her claws. He casually sat in his new swivel chair. Almost civilly, he started, "You know, word has it that he's – "

"Taken? I'm aware of that," she said coldly. "Thank you for bringing that up as well, Malfoy. Now if you'll excuse me, I will not waste my time talking to you about this subject anymore. Or ever."

Damn, her eyes were tearing up. She had to get out of there, now.

As she turned to grab the knob to the door, Draco quietly stated, "You know what I meant."

Her shoulders sagged and she looked over her shoulder at him, an emotion passing through her eyes that seemed to age her considerably. They continued to look at each other for a few moments.

"Yeah."

With that, she silently closed the door behind her.

As Hermione prepared to leave work for the day, she heard heavy, confident footsteps behind her. She sighed, really not too happy to put up a fierce front.

What does he want now?

After her little exchange with him, she was considering just forgetting about Alex and just go back to being an unfeeling creature, true to her reputation. Why fight it? She was too tired to try to turn her life around. Her life had been turned around enough times.

The footsteps stopped behind her, but he didn't seem to be in a hurry to speak. Impatiently – she wanted to go home dammit – she turned around, ready to start this inevitable scathing conversation when –

"Oh, Alex!"

YAY! Sorry about the huge gap in updates folks, but life is sticky when riddled with midterms and stupid stuff like that. Don't worry, I haven't given up on this yet! Please, PLEASE, any sort of feedback is appreciated! Thanks and goodnight!