The Uneventful Story

By: Snowflake Imp

Rated: R

Chapter 06

Disclaimer: I believe…wait…..waait for it….ah yes. I believe…….Harry Potter and all its characters……do NOT belong to me. Whew. That was a tough one. Almost got it wrong!

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Hermione dreaded her next destination.

"Is it already that time of the year?" she thought morosely. She couldn't think of one person who enjoyed the much hated…..

Mid-yearly review meeting.

Geh.

Hermione's mouth twisted unattractively, like she just sucked a sour, rotting lemon. If such a think could ever exist. Just thinking about those wretched words made her whole body depressed. Again, if such an affliction could exist where the physical body itself could be depressed.

Sure, there were meetings scattered – no, littered – throughout the year, but none were as horrid as this meeting. This was the meeting to end all meetings. She could feel one of her famous migraines coming on full force. Who would have thought that after battling evil for peace on earth there were still such…well….evil elements in the world. During the War if they had told her this was what she had to look forward to, that this was what they were fighting for…….

Let's just say she would have gone on suicide missions more and strategized in the stronghold complex less.

Because you see, this wasn't just a meeting. Oh no. In meetings you got together to solve things, to work together to get something done, to create and brainstorm.

This….this travesty of a meeting was a review meeting. With not weeks' worth, but months' worth of nitpicking, complaining, begging, accusing, flattery, and arguments. She would swear Arthur placed some sort of Time spell in that room – she felt that years have been shaved off her life after she walked out of that room.

She rubbed her temples. "Bear with it, old girl," she muttered to herself. Wasn't it only yesterday when it was the beginning of the semester cycle and Malfoy glided into her department, like some over sugarfied Broadway actor bursting into his main song number?

Speaking of Malfoy……..

Target sighted. He was coming towards her from down the hall. Her eyes nearly bugged out of her head. He…He……He…..

He had a skip to his step.

A SKIP. No…NO! That can't be right. Preposterous.

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks, watching…..not really knowing what she was watching.

No…..that IS a skip in his step! Is he…..he's HUMMING! An uplifting ditty in some Major key!

"Granger, close that silly mouth of yours, you look positively ridiculous standing there like you wish to shag me," he practically chirped, walking past her but not before he teasingly flicked her jaw shut with one elegant finger.

Her head slowly, creakily turned to follow his passing form, much akin to a squeaky, rusty robot awakening from many years of dusty slumber.

Why. Why. Why.

"WHY IS HE SO CHEERFUL?" she thought frantically to herself. Her massive brain hastily backtracked and tried to think of any reasons that could make him so happy on such a joyless day. Reasons that all could lead to her demise.

But she couldn't think of any. Anything that could make him happy via her embarrassment meant a negative view on him as well – that was how well he integrated himself into her department. Much to her ire.

Walking stiffly into the meeting room, she numbly sat down at the farthest seat at the end of the long table, away from where most were congregating. Soon, in a matter of minutes, she was certain she could figure Malfoy out. Her shining feature was her intellect, after all.

Was he like this in the past years? She couldn't really remember. True, he was always seated near her, but…… he was mostly professional, if not part malicious, part opportunity-grabbing bastard. She never associated him with the adjective gleeful.

Which he definitely was. If there were ever a person in time that personified gleeful, it would be Malfoy right now. Which, when saying that sentence out loud and knowing him from childhood, was a really weird picture to paint.

And then it dawned on her. And her opinion of him lowered even more.

"Of course it would be someone like Malfoy to enjoy a review meeting…," she thought, her eyes narrowing as he walked into the room, apparently calmed down.

But now she could see it, the excited glint in his eye, the smirk just waiting to burst from his stupid sensual lips. She never would have noticed such telling signs on him if not for that chance encounter.

How could she have been so blind, how could she not have figured it out? This was his modern-day battleground. Besides winning and sex, he loved the hunt. He loved carefully constructing paths for his opponents to unknowingly take, then play with them for his enjoyment, then squeeze them for everything they're worth. Strategy was the name of his game. Hell, it was this love alone that single-handedly turned from Ron from thinking he was "that scum that I should scrap off the bottom of my shoe then burned with fire then spit on the ashes then find some dog to piss on it" to "you know, he's not that bad of a bloke sometimes."

Boys and their love of chess. Upon Ron's first discovery of Draco's prowess at the game, he practically held him prisoner at the Burrow for two weeks until Ginny had mercy on him and freed him in the middle of the night. In exchange he from then on called her Ginerva instead of She-Weasel. She thought it was a fair trade.

And throw in the opportunity, nay, the encouragement to put the heat-lamp on his co-workers and magnify their every fault, their every mistake? It was heaven on Earth for him.

"This also explains why he was so fervent in pushing for quarterly review meetings these past few years," she mused to herself. She chewed on her lip in concentration. She quickly shook herself out of her assessment, for in the corner of her eye one Draco Malfoy was slowly approaching her.

"Don't come this way don't come this way don't come this way don't you dare sit next to me go away go away stop stop stop you sodding bastard NO you –" she thought wildly.

If she had to sit through the upcoming long hours near someone in such a euphoric state it would make her impending, possible migraine into a guaranteed one.

He sat directly across from her.

"I thought I gave you ample time to get over me and my charming ways, but I gather from your expression it was not long enough," his deep voice tinged with amusement.

And she was hit with the bright, sharp pains of the king of headaches. She groaned and dropped her head onto the table.

Malfoy's firm, cool hand stroked her hair in a distracted, soothing manner. He looked around the room and breathed in deeply.

"Have you ever not loved life?" he asked cheerfully.

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"Have I died? Is it over yet?" she asked weakly, barely able to drop her body into the uncomfortable chair provided on the upper level canteen.

"Hush, you have to reign in your flair for dramatics," Draco chided her gently, picking up the daily menu on the table.

She suppressed the urge to shriek and tear out her hair in frustration.

"Why are you still in front of me! Even during our one break I have to sit by you? Ridiculousness!" she snarled at him, pointing her finger invasively in front of his face.

He casually pushed her hand to the side with the back of his hand, not even looking up from the menu.

"Manners, Granger. Now look, you're causing a scene."

She blushed after noticing many stares and reluctantly retracted her hand. However, her guard remained firmly up.

"If I had the strength to leave, I would," she managed to grit out, unable to go down without a fight.

"Of course, darling," he said coolly, the corner of his mouth lifting. Most likely from the absurdity of the idea of him calling her any kind of pet name.

"And don't think I didn't notice you snickering when Fendelson was close to tears. Your doing, might I add."

He made some sort of non-committal grunt in agreement.

"And stop passing me those inappropriate notes. It's distracting."

"Please, who was the one who was nearly caught when you sent that insanely accurate doodle of Cornwall when he's drunk at the Christmas parties?"

"Cackling does cause for attention, Malfoy."

"Touché."

A pause. She reddened. "And I only participated in that stupid exchange of notes because if I didn't do something with my hands while they droned on and on I would've gone mad!"

"Naturally," he said, looking at her with wide eyes. His gray eyes were nearly liquid clear with mock innocence. "I couldn't possible fathom the straight-laced Granger to exchange hilarious illustrations, mean-spirited comments, and often head-scratchingly difficult Hang-Man puzzles for the sake of fun."

"Shove off," she muttered, burying her head behind the menu.

He shrugged, not at all affected by her prickly attitude. He'd coax the twinkling eyed minx out of her again later when they went back into the meeting.

"Lunch Special B," he said clearly to the menu. Instantly, a serving tray containing thick soup and beef tri-tips appeared in front of him. He waited courteously for her to order, as manners dictated.

"Hot lemon tea," she said tiredly. With the migraine she was sporting, there was no way she could handle real food.

"Migraine?" he asked, his tone indicating he already knew the answer.

"Every year," she replied, stirring in the lemon into the red tea.

"And every year you treat it the same way, probably to no avail," he scoffed. "Getting some food into your system will give you the energy to fight it off."

"Unless you want to pick half-digested food bits off your ridiculously priced pants, I advise against it," she countered, her eyes squinting at the pounding in her head. She quickly sipped her tea.

"Look, just – hot porridge with sweet cream and berries, with a side of fried eggs – try to have some of this and see how you feel," he ordered. The steaming bowl appeared in front of him and he graciously poured the cream, shoving the entire tray towards her.

She glanced wearily between the tray and his face, gauging the practicality of eating versus taking a Malfoy's advise. Her nose wrinkled at his choice of nourishments.

"Just try the damn food," he growled, finally fed up. "I'm starving but I simply cannot begin eating unless you do so just hurry the hell up."

Motivated not by any affection towards him but rather an inherent sense of courtesy did Hermione find her hand moving towards the tray. With the sigh of frustration he picked up his fork and began gracefully cutting his meat.

Both were silent during the lunch; Hermione believing that talking would do more damage to her pain, Draco feeling comfortable in their silence. Sometime during the meal, with her disliking egg yolk, Hermione carefully cut them out with her fork and pushed them towards Draco onto the plate. Without looking up, he reached over with his fork and speared them onto his own plate.

He then proceeded to move his little pile of corn onto her plate, which she began immediately eating, one kernel at a time. She knew he knew she was probably the only one who could enjoy eating corn so much. It was the obsessive-compulsive in her. Something about eating a produce so methodically was very appealing to her. She would eat it automatically if placed in front of her. Hermione remembered on one bored, rainy afternoon back in their days of Head boy, Head girl, she had waxed poetically on the subject of eating corn to the point where he literally jumped out the window to escape her concluding points. To punish him for his bad manners she stubbornly waited in their common room until he stealthily returned a few hours later, then launched into a two-hour lecture on the benefits of corn.

Upon finish the corn and her bowl of porridge, she found her stomach to be stronger than she had first thought. She proceeded to stab a piece of beef off his plate, without any sign of shyness, about the same time he reached over and plucked a stray berry from her bowl.

A co-worker watched their seamless give-take exchange of food fascinating and at the same time, mystifying. He was under the impression the two disliked each other immensely. But without even waiting for cues from one another, the two moved like a flawless single unit. He was about to come to the conclusion the two were actually friends when…..

"Really, Granger? 'I wish her face was infested with barnacles'? That was your Hangman riddle? Who in the world wishes for barnacles to appear on a face?" Draco suddenly exclaimed, as if attempting to hold in his indignity this whole time but failing horribly.

"You're just miffed you didn't get that one right," Hermione said snootily, feeling a bit better after the food. "It's a perfectly fine wish, very imaginative."

"Would barnacles even stick to human flesh? It's illogical!" he countered.

"Who cares if it's illogical – even though it's not! It's a curse! It doesn't have to make sense!"

"There has to be standards! I won't allow you to ruin the integrity of Hang-Man –"

"You won't let ME ruin the integrity of some childish game? You got a lot of nerve putting on that kind of air – "

"Oh, and what kind of air would that be?"

"Stop interrupting me and you might find out, you useless excuse for a –"

"Could you two please stop before the rest of the Ministry comes to witness this?" an amused voice queried from behind Hermione.

She could recognize that smooth, slightly gravelly voice any day.

"HARRY!" she exclaimed happily, turning around in her chair to see him. She threw up her arms childishly, impatiently waiting for her hug.

With a deep chuckle, he complied, picking up her small frame and twirled her around.

"Och, Harry, put me down," she said woozily, not quite yet fully cured of her migraine.

"Sorry "Mione, dizzy?" he asked, gently setting her back into her seat. Draco dryly cleared his throat.

"Malfoy," Harry said stiffly, tensing slightly.

"Good to see you too, Scar-Head," Draco replied with a smirk. A secretary passing by, not quite knowing the trio's long past together, gasped at Draco's audacity to the Famous Harry Potter. Draco rolled his eyes.

"Still not getting the recognition you think you deserve, huh?" Harry asked glibly.

Draco sneered. "Push off."

Hermione stood up, putting herself between them. While her relationship with Malfoy wasn't lovey-dovey, they could at least get along civilly when needed and their guard was down. But Harry and Draco…….there was a lot of bad blood between them, even after all they went through together. Some things just can't be fully buried. Time for a little damage control.

"Harry, what are you doing here? And today of all days, it's," her voice drops to a whisper, "review meeting day."

"Yeah, I know, thought I'd drop by to see what I was missing," he said cheekily, knowing full well he would have been damn unhappy working for the Ministry, even though they had begged him to join them after the War.

"You think you had better ways of enjoying your hols," Hermione muttered, jealous he played in seasons and was currently enjoying a full 4 months of freedom. Damn professional Quidditch players.

"Seriously though, I'm here to escort you out of here after the meeting. We're meeting up with Ron, Lav and anybody else that cares to join us at the Yellow Moon," Harry replied.

The Yellow Moon was a recent trendy hotspot that served terrific drinks and had a nice after-work atmosphere.

"Please tell me Lavender isn't going to drag me into the shop to have me fitted for dresses again," Hermione moaned, remember how zealous Lavender Potter can get when outfitting her less-than-savvy friend for the upcoming ball. "Because I'm not going to the ball this year."

"You say that every year," he said dismissively. Now come on, let me use your phone – I need to call Molly to check up on James."

"How is your son anyways? I see you've survived his Terrible-Twosies," she said with a grin, thinking fondly of that bundle of energy.

"Twosies is a breeze, what you've got to watch out for is the Threesies….."

The two chattered on amicably as they headed towards her office, lost in their own little world. Seeing as how her back was turned, she couldn't have seen the way Draco's eyes smoldered as he watched the two walk out together. As they turned out of sight, he quickly turned his head, as if tearing his eyes off them. With a grimace, he made his way back to the meeting room.

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Diary Entry No. 52, Vol. V

Was it only yesterday that we were all in our jumpers and escaping trolls at Hogwarts? Was it only yesterday my main concern was not only to make sure Harry and Ron would make it out alive, but also to make sure their souls wouldn't get sucked into the black abyss of war? Was it only yesterday I attended Harry and Lav's wedding as the maid of honor?

How time flies by us. And how time stands still for some of us. Sometimes I feel as though I'm still stuck somewhere in the past. Not sure when though.

Looking at everybody's content faces makes it all worth it. But it makes me wonder why it feels like a part of me is anchored in the past. I feel like there's going to be a point in life where I can't move on until I remove it, but I don't know how. I don't even understand this feeling, let alone know how to fix it. Something…..somehow…..

Sometimes I don't think I've been Purged properly. I still get these….flashes of emotions. Bits of memories, sometimes, during dreams. I wonder if anybody else has this. Maybe I should go to the WWW sometime. Get myself sorted out.

I think Malfoy should go too. I think he's just as affected, if not more, as me. But then again, who knows, with that man.

What am I saying? I don't even know what I'm saying…..

The meeting, long as it was, finally adjourned. Most slowly poured out of there, like oozing sludge. They really got a beating today, mostly from Malfoy. His reconnaissance was amazing. Such detailed reports about them. Most egos were crushed today.

When everybody filed out, Harry went up to Arthur, glancing back sympathetically at them. "Hullo, Arthur. Good times, I gather?"

Arthur shook his head, smiling slightly. "All I have to say is that your generation is a frightening bunch. With Draco Malfoy's lack of empathy and Hermione's obsessive personality…..I mean, we'll all have a promising future, but at what price, my lad?"

Harry laughed at that. "I think if Hermione heard that she's partnered up with Malfoy for that I don't think she'd be very pleased at all. Where is she anyway?"

"She was the first to run out of here – no sooner had the word 'adjourned' fell off my lips and she already left a smoke trail behind her."

"'Mione did say she had one of her headaches today. She's probably at the lounge – she loves that squishy sofa there," Harry mused.

Before the Boy-Who-Lived could even step foot in the lounge, his pathway was blocked by a couple of angry looking women. Their perfectly made-up eyes were narrowed in agitation.

"You ladies do realize that by merely hunching your backs you're not really making yourself any less visible?" he offered good-naturedly.

They both turned to him with a start, surprised that they were discovered. The shorter one's face, a blonde, quickly turned from a sneer to that of pleasant surprise.

"Oh Merlin, THE Harry Potter! I can't believe I'm actually next to you!" she squealed softly, not wanting to be discovered.

The brunette was going to continue the line of flattery when a moan from the lounge focused their attention back to it. Before Harry could open his mouth to query, the taller girl quickly supplied him an explanation, all whilst never taking her eyes off the offending site.

"It's that Hermione Granger and….and….Draco Malfoy!"

Harry's eyes nearly popped out of his face. "Wh…at?" he managed to garble, attempting to force his body to move, to interfere!

"Oh yes, they've been at it all day – like in the canteen today. I'll never know why he even looks her way, let alone…" the blonde started, then realized Harry was gone. It was amazing really – it was like he disappeared in a blink of an eye.

Having no idea what to feel at the moment, Harry let his body naturally take control and found himself practically running into the room. In front of him was his Hermione, currently bracing herself against Malfoy, who was behind her on the sofa. Granted their legs were off to different sides, but it still was surprisingly intimate, especially knowing their history.

"Why have you not marketed your hands?" Hermione managed to rasp, utter putty in her rival's nimble extremities.

"I find putting a price on them is cheapening," he retorted back, never stopping his firm assault on her temples. "You know, it'd be even more enjoyable if you'd just put your head in my lap –"

"I already told you there's no way this head is going near that lap," she interrupted, then mewed as he hit a particular spot.

He chuckled. "Who knew you could make such a sound, Granger."

And then, Harry swore, Malfoy looked up at him. Looked him straight in the eye. Straight. And he gave the most gloating smile he had ever seen on anyone. Harry blinked, so confused was he at this whole situation. As soon as he did, Malfoy's attention was back on Hermione, as if he had no idea Harry was even in the room. Did he imagine it?

No time for that now!

"She won't be making any more sounds as far as I'm concerned!" Harry heatedly declared, practically ripping Hermione away from him.

Hermione was so shocked at the sudden change of position she nearly tumbled to the floor, had Harry not tightened his grip on her shoulders and used his body to brace her.

"Harry!" she nearly squealed.

Harry's grip on her shoulders became even more intense. Though Draco's eyes flashed with annoyance – whether or not it was directed at Harry or at the fact that Hermione was taken from his arms he didn't know – he casually smiled.

"Salutations, gracious Leader," he gave a mock salute. "I see Quidditch hasn't made you soft."

Harry's brain was still catching up with events and he found he couldn't begin to form words. There was something…..something familiar about this. This situation. This anger he was feeling. And something new…. he felt…anxious. Scared?

"Harry?" Hermione softly said to him. "You're hurting me."

He quickly let go, as if she was burning him. "Jesus, I'm sorry 'Mione! I just.."

"It's okay," she said quickly, eyeing Draco nervously.

How did she end up, yet again, in the same room as Draco despite the fact that everybody was dismissed and could go home? How did him manage to talk her into letting him massage her, of all things? Why did he even want to in the first place?

Her memory was fuzzy. She just remembered Kent was going on and on and being defensive and repeating himself and not even making a very good argument and her migraine just pounded into her head like a jackhammer. Hermione vaguely remembered stumbling out of the room and then…..and then…..?

Forget it, worry about that later. Just focus on getting those two separated.

"Come on, let's go," she said a little louder than she would have normally. Harry still wouldn't take his eyes off Draco. Hermione rubbed his shoulder and upper arm, hoping to relax his tense muscles.

"Harry, come on," she repeated. "I haven't seen Gin in ages, I'm dying for some female company."

That seemed to shake him out of it and he looked down on her, finally focused. "Yeah, sorry."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. She quickly glanced back at Draco, who currently was looking at them with an unreadable expression on his face.

"Thanks Malfoy," she said graciously. She figured a little courtesy couldn't hurt the situation. "I owe you one."

"You can count on that, love," he drawled, finally relaxing and plopped back down onto the couch.

For some reason, her face burned as Harry escorted her out, giving a final glare towards Draco direction. Draco winked.

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Sorry I haven't updated in forever! But now that I graduated, I think I'll have a lot more free time, thanks to me…being a bum. In any case, I've been having a lack of motivation lately, but after stumbling upon a couple of well-written fanfics I got my inspiration back and hope you all like this short chapter.

I have a general plan in mind of how I want this story to go, with some twists and turns along the way. I've been carefully dropping clues and hints, hopefully you guys can catch them – once all is revealed, I hope you can reread the story with new understanding and a newfound appreciation!

I also hope I'm keeping in character. Although obviously they ARE a bit OOC I think it's necessary considering the context of the universe I'm creating for them.

BIG NOTICE Before I forget, you should all know I'm drastically changing the storyline of the Harry Potter books, so consider this fic a bit AU-ish. Since the actual story thus far makes it seem that the gang won't be having a normal 7th year, I wish to change this (I think for Hermione to be HG and Draco HB with the relationship I want, certain things need to be altered). THUS: Draco Malfoy doesn't attempt to take Dumbledore's life until AFTER they graduate. I'll try to go more into detail in my fic, but be warned – this fic doesn't follow the actual Harry Potter books to the T.

So yeah, Please tell me what you think! What you think of my fic, what you think the big surprise(s) is, etc etc! I need feedback because I've never written before and I want to improve and learn along the way! Thanks all!