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For those who don't understand the title, it's a little wizarding pun on Travis Tritt's "Here's a Quarter (Call Someone who Cares)". On a random (but interesting) note, £1 is the equivalent of about 7 sickles.

BlooDsucKkerR69: I know Draco is a douche – it's in his job description as Draco Malfoy. Like I said, this novel length will be a bit angsty though under an umbrella theme of love and forgiveness. It's a progressive story so there's a lot more to come. Look forward to more about Zabini and Nott (two characters I love that just don't get enough attention in the books) and Malfoy and Granger's relationship. Don't give up on me just yet you guys! And thanks for the review!

Disclaimer: JKR's. I own nothing.

"St. Scarhead."

"Ferret."

Malfoy smirked, enjoying Harry's clear discomfort.

"Any developments on Granger's little predicament?"

"You were right by the way."

"Aren't I always?" Malfoy coolly interjected.

"We've determined contact between Rodolphus and Rabastan with some former Death Eaters. They must owe the Lestranges a favor, or remain loyal to Voldemort and his preachings. Not sure if they plan to capture Hermione, but you've been right so far, and I have a hunch you're right."

"They must have internally planned the whole kidnapping from within Azkaban walls."

"You know too much for your own good, Malfoy. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're helping your uncles."

Malfoy sneered.

"I'm protecting the darned mudblood aren't I? That should be good enough for you."

He scowled and wrung his wrists. He hated Potter seeing him so vulnerable all the bloody time.

"Why would I want to protect Granger and keep my father in Azkaban? Yes, it would complete my already perfect fairytale life, wouldn't it Potter?"

Harry just glared.

"We don't need your sarcasm, Malfoy."

"And I don't need your altruism."

"Fine."

"Fine!"

Malfoy was silent, staring off behind Harry's head and focused on the moving photographs behind him. He saw Potter and the She Weasel holding each other's waists, throwing back their heads and laughing as though they had witnessed something rather hilarious. She was wearing an all white ball length dress and Malfoy assumed it was their wedding day.

As much as Malfoy hated to admit, the She Weasel looked good - and so did Potter, he supposed. He silently cursed himself and wondered what it would be like to be so blissfully in love, like Potter and the woman Weasley.

He moved on to the next picture, and caught his breath. It was one of Hermione standing between Potter and Weasley. From the way the sunrays lazily caught Hermione's soft brown hair, they seemed to be in front of the Burrow on a late-summer afternoon. She donned a yellow sundress that accented her thin waist and year round tan.

She wore a natural smile that warmed Malfoy to his disgust. He grimaced as soon as he noticed the way she was smiling up at Weasley who, to Malfoy's delight, hadn't noticed. Weasley and Potter both wore muggle clothing, jeans and Quidditch t-shirts, and these ugly flimsy shoes he'd never seen before. Considering the one strap of protection the shoes offered their toes, his suspicions were confirmed that Weasley and Potter were much too poor.

"How's Lucius?"

Malfoy's eyes narrowed, grey eyes brooding.

"Why would I know?" Malfoy tiffed, "Or care for that matter."

"You're his son, and under the terms of Lucius' release–"

"Save the lecture for your kids using premature magic, Scarhead. From what I've heard he's fine, and that's all there is to it."

Harry sighed and eyed Malfoy precariously.

The terms of the elder Malfoy's release had been Draco's required correspondence between himself and an Auror of the Wizengamot's choice. Ironically, the Auror the Wizarding Council chose was the only man Draco hated more than his father: Potter. Their letters were painfully polite and distant; a little too cryptic for Harry's peace of mind. He even suspected Malfoy of harboring war criminals in his wine cellar at one point. Harry announced that he was to search the Malfoy Manor several evenings ago at the Burrow.

"Harry, you're much too busy," Hermione suggested lightheartedly, lounging next to him on the Weasley's tumbledown plaid couch. "Let me do it."

"And you tell me I have too much free time, 'Mione?" Ron accused from the kitchen.

"Shove a homemade house elf sock in it, Ronald," Hermione reprimanded scathingly.

She was pissed off at Ron's insolence at dinner a week ago when her date, Seamus Finnegan, was treated to comments about Hermione's sexual prowess.

"I don't have much work at the moment - plus I think it would be fun; much like going back in time and rifling through Malfoy's sixth year belongings. That's too much entertainment that I just won't let you experience without me."

"Malfoy excites you! Are you fucking serious?"

"Shut up, Ron," Hermione yelled, irritated with her best friend's rash remarks, "Don't talk with your mouthful like a two-year-old."

Harry chuckled, his eyes shining from the verbal diatribe going on in his home. It was just like Hogwarts: Hermione and Ron quarrelling while he either hid or meakly attempted peace-keeping. He took his best friend's hand and squeezed.

"Thanks Hermione."

"No problem," she replied, smiling at Harry. Her face suddenly became serious.

"You don't really think he would hide Fenrir Greyback in his home, do you?"

"Hermione," he questioned, "From what I recall, Malfoy is terribly frightened of werewolves. And do you honestly think anyone in their right mind would house Greyback in their home? I highly doubt it."

Hermione's face turned sour.

"I wouldn't put it past Malfoy."

"So how's the pregnant wife, Potter?"

Malfoy's question brought Harry back from his reminisce.

"Cantankerous with the little sleep she's getting."

Why on earth were the She Weasel and Potter contaminating the world with the third of their offspring? Three spawns of the worst possible combination of two things I loathe immensely: Weasley and Potter.

Malfoy grunted.

"Potter, I was thinking you could talk to Arthur about mitigating Granger's workload."

"So it's Arthur know, is it?"

"Don't give me that, Scarhead," Malfoy voiced, his signature smirk still donning his features, "We've worked quite closely over the years."

"To answer your question, Ferret, I'm not going to ask Mr. Weasley anything regarding Hermione's work."

"And why not?"

"Because the last thing anyone wants– unless they are masochistic and would revel in experiencing an excruciatingly painful death – is to interfere with Hermione's job."

"But don't you see, Potter, I'm doing it all for her own good."

Malfoy's pressed voice reminded of his own daughter, Rose, begging for some new dolls from WWW.

"How am I supposed to keep a watchful eye on her while she's traipsing around the Ministry?"

"She's just doing her job, Malfoy. So I'd suggest, if you want to save your own head, to butt out if it."

"Just get me a meeting with Mr. Weasley, Scarhead."

And before Harry could say anything else, Malfoy had Apparated from his office. He hated when Ferret got the last word, but some things from his Hogwarts days just never change.

Hermione breathed in and out.

One... Two... Three...

She even sat on her hands to stop herself from shoving the Malfoy Industries Expense Report file down his secretary's throat. Malfoy's personal escritoire – what was her name again? Gina? – religiously continued her obnoxious gum smacking and vindictive glares at Hermione. The brown haired witch swore she heard Gina murmur 'mudblood' more than once through all that gum chewing.

Malfoy opened his office door and strolled out casually, gesturing for Hermione to follow him.

"How long have you been in there?"

"Two hours," Malfoy answered, "Give or take."

"Important meeting?" Granger asked, curious as to why she was asked to wait outside his office for an hour.

"Not really. I just thought it would bother you."

Hermione scowled darkly and Malfoy grinned. He enjoyed getting to her.

"Gina, would you mind deferring all my Floos and sorting any owls that come in? Thanks."

The blonde girl blushed and Malfoy smirked back.

He sure knew his charm and effect on women, didn't he?

"Did you say something, Granger?"

"No," she claimed a little too quickly, "Just commenting on the uh- lovely leather furniture is all."

"Shame," he continued. Hermione followed his strides out of the office area. "You've got your own office now, so no more fine Italian leather seating for you. Just a plastic mesh office chair."

"What! That's going to kill me," Hermione jested.

He merely narrowed his eyes and began the tour. As he talked avidly about his workplace and coworkers, Hermione again recognized Malfoy's natural business savvy and entrepreneurship. She scowled, realizing that he'd succeeded financially much more than Hermione ever would. She took solace in the fact he was a git and nodded absentmindedly at something he'd just said.

"That's Blaise's office. You should pop in some time and get reacquainted."

She saw his sneer and huffed.

"To your right is Nott's office and yours is around the corner. I think you can find that on your own, mudblood."

"That was so necessary, Ferret."

Is Malfoy bipolar or something? One minute he's all business and next minute he's back to a first class sod. I knew there was something wrong with the git…

"Can't let you think I've gone soft now, can I?"

Hermione ignored him, taking in the comfortable and modern surroundings of her new workspace. She rather liked the black and white dynamic.

"Mudblood, don't touch too much and give Nott wizard herpes. He's one of my best."

"Fuck off, Malfoy."

Malfoy grinned and pulled Hermione into him. He heard her pleasurable sigh but her very capable mind apparently had other ideas. Hermione fought off Malfoy by elbowing him between his Seeker-muscled thighs. He staggered back, coughing and nursing his manhood.

"Don't you fucking touch me, you freak."

And with that, Hermione stalked away to find her office. Malfoy's dangerous baritone called after her,

"Meeting in the conference room in an hour, mudblood!"

After getting a feel for her new office and ruefully associating Draco's capricious behavior as borderline personality disorder, Hermione wandered over to Nott's office. When she knocked and walked inside, he faced away from her and talked animatedly to a client on the phone. When he saw Hermione, he smiled, quickly finishing the call.

"Welcome, Granger. Liking the office?"

"It's great actually. Who knew Malfoy had such impeccable taste."

"You forget that he's a Malfoy, Granger."

They both smirked at this, each remembering a personal experience where Malfoy had declared that notion himself.

"He said we'd be working together quite closely."

Nott just nodded and appeared indifferent to his situation with Hermione.

"At least it's you and not Zabini," she continued.

"Actually, Granger," Nott interrupted, "Malfoy wanted to put you through the torture of working with Blaise. I expressly forbid him from partnering you and Zabini; after all, it wouldn't be conducive to success. All we'd end up with is a dead Zabini, a crazy witch, and scared muggle clients."

Hermione laughed at this and Nott decided he liked her tinkling mirth.

"Take a seat, Granger."

They continued chatting and realized they had more in common than each had initially thought. They talked about work and family, Hogwarts, their favorite books, and how much of a git Malfoy was. Nott decided he liked the Granger girl, and even found her to be breathtaking, much unlike Malfoy's uncouth and offensive description of her at the last board meeting. Nott had laughed when one of the muggle board members raised his hand and asked if she was a troll.

"Oh, Nott! Meeting in five."

He looked at his clock and got up from his seat.

"Come along, Granger. We'll get you to this meeting on time. This office is labyrinth sometimes, I swear."

And Hermione dutifully followed the sly Slytherin to her first and rather eventful board meeting.

Nott chivalrously opened the conference door for Hermione and the two walked in – clearly the last ones to arrive. She blushed and muttered a quick apology before taking a seat next to a good-looking Asian man. He greeted her with a wink and turned back to Malfoy before she could even register his welcome.

Too many flirts in the office place, Hermione. Watch out.

"Now that the fashionably late Nott has graced us with his presence, we can begin. I would like to thank you all for making it to our first board meeting on the cellular wizarding prototype initiative. We all know it's been a long time coming, but I would like to especially thank Matthew Blooming for the kick start."

Hermione took this as her cue to clap. When no one joined her, she just shrunk a little bit lower in her seat. The man who was probably Matthew blushed and smiled at Hermione, earning her a glare from Malfoy. He continued his speech.

"Our Research and Development department has already begun the process of attaching wizard spell recognition to cellular devices and made its first successful prototype only days ago!"

Now to this everyone burst into thunderous applause. Hermione – the only one not clapping – shrunk even lower in her chair. Did she just hear what she thought she heard? Did Malfoy really just mutter 'stupid mudblood' under his breath?

Just bloody perfect. Oh, I'm going to kill him.

"Of course the model isn't flawless, but the department is working ardently on achieving perfection by the end of next quarter."

He continued his speech, indicating the advertisement process was already underway and the numerous investors interested in contributing to the product's success. His poised and cool spiel caused Hermione to notice the way his eyes shone when he was excited and confident.

She observed that he ran his fingers through his white blond hair when he was unsure how to continue. She noticed his smile and dancing grey eyes, how sharp and handsome he looked in his muggle business attire. She admired his attentiveness to the muggle board members' questions, and how he attacked problems and inquiries at their core.

How did he make it look so very easy, to be appear so very perfect?

Malfoy caught her eyes and smirked as if he knew the very question she'd just asked herself.

"And this, everyone, is the one and only Hermione Jean Granger."

She rose from her seat and smiled graciously at the group of men around her.

Yes, all men. Malfoy was so bloody sexist.

"I'm Jackie Weng," the Asian man next to her shook her hand and flashed a thousand watt smile, "Head of Marketing and Advertisement. Youngest board member at Malfoy Industries."

She couldn't help but blush at his suave voice.

"Adrian Pucey; we went to school together."

Hermione suppressed a scowl. She disliked Adrian as much as she disliked Snape's potions class – and that was saying a lot.

"Chief Sales Officer. I hope to get to know you much better, Ms. Granger."

She frowned at that; it sounded too much like dangling meat in front of a hungry Hungarian Horntail.

"I'm Malachi Castillo, Head of Performance and Procedure. I'm a squib myself."

She liked his genuine interest and lazy voice. Maybe he wasn't a player–

"I know what you're thinking Granger, but no, Castillo is a bigger sleaze than Pucey and I combined."

"Shut it, Zabini."

The three men just grinned at Castillo's caveat and Zabini continued.

"You know me, Granger. Head of Promotions, that's all. To my right is Demetri Abbott, Hannah's brother. He doesn't talk much but he's Head of Finance."

Git.

"Matthew Blooming; I'm a muggle. Malfoy's newest Chief Business Development Officer and the one who got Mr. Malfoy involved in muggle technologies."

"Wait, Malfoy Sr.?"

"His name is Mr. Lucius Malfoy to you, Granger."

Matthew raised his eyebrows at Draco's interjection, interested in Malfoy's out of office relationship with the new and only female board member.

"Yes, I did," Blooming answered with a light smirk.

"Excuse me if I'm wrong," Hermione pressed, "But you're so young!"

"I joined the company nine years ago, fresh out of high school. I was always above university anyway."

Great another man who thinks he's much too good for anything.

"I'm Nikhil Clayton, muggle, and Head of Mergers and Acquisitions. We buy and sell portions of Malfoy Industries."

The Indian man looked the most disinterested in the going-ons. She decided she liked him best. Her eyes rested on Nott's brown and she beamed.

"Head of Wizarding Relations," he said with a wink, "Why don't you tell everyone else what you're going to do and a little bit about yourself."

She blushed at the rapt attention of the men, save Malfoy and Clayton.

"I'm Hermione Jean Granger, a witch who went to school with Malfoy, Nott, Pucey, and Zabini. I work for the Ministry of Magic as Head of Muggle Relations and Protection. This isn't part of my job description, working for Malfoy Industries, I mean, but I'm taking on this part-time position as an adjunct to my job at the Ministry. I'll be working with Nott as Head of Muggle Relations with the muggle investors during the cellular prototype process."

"I thought you said she was a troll," Clayton piped up.

The men chuckled and Hermione felt herself shrinking to the size of a Bertie Bott's jellybean. Malfoy opened his mouth to insult her; she could see the devilish gleam in his eyes.

"Alright you lot, we've got a lot of work to do if we want this new cellular prototype to hit the shelves by the end of next quarter."

The men nodded and mumbled in agreement. They shook hands with Hermione – taking a moment to admire her ample cleavage - and headed towards their respective departments.

Hermione simply refused to believe Zabini was the one who interrupted Malfoy's obvious planned verbal attack.

"Zabini–"

"Don't say anything, Granger. I wasn't saving your filthy skin, I just didn't want Malfoy ripping out that nest you call hair in the middle of the conference room, alright?"

Hermione nodded dumbly. Even she didn't want to instigate a fight between Zabini already. He nodded and left her, Nott, and Malfoy in the conference room. Draco was putting his files away and glaring at Granger.

"If you're going to attempt to ruin every meeting, Granger, just give me a heads up so I'll at least bring a wand and a book of dark magic. Or would you prefer a coloring book?"

"You're such a child, Malfoy. You were the one who told them I was a troll!"

"I'm not the one lacking a sense of humor."

"I'm not the one lacking any decency and professionalism whatsoever."

The two snarled at each other.

"Granger," Nott warned, "Time to go."

He took her arm and pulled her unwillingly after him. Malfoy just looked after her, also taking this time to notice how shapely her legs were under her tight pencil skirt.

Fuck, Draco, stop thinking about Granger! Clearly you haven't had enough action in the past week - it's obviously time for you to get wasted and shag a witch or two.

Out of Malfoy's sight and round a bend, Hermione wrenched her arm from Theo's grasp, but followed him back to their office. She had to, she still didn't know her way around the office.

"Sorry about that, Granger. I just didn't need two integral parts of our operation Crucio-ed before the first press conference."

Hermione just scoffed and stalked towards her office.

"Granger! Don't be mad."

She turned and softened at the genuinely hurt expression on his features.

"Sorry, Nott."

After careful consideration, Theo spoke up.

"I know you were being sardonic when I met you at the Ministry last week and you requested I call you by your first name. But I think, Hermione, I'd like you to call me Theo."

Hermione raised both eyebrows but internally acquiesced. She liked Nott a lot more than she'd let on.

"I'd like that."

She turned to leave but stopped when she heard Nott's voice again.

"If you're not too busy Hermione, I'd like to take you out to dinner sometime this weel. I mean, only if you want–"

"Nott," she interjected, smiling like a pubescent teenage girl being asked to prom, "I'd love to."

They exchanged smiles and turned their separate ways. Hermione beamed upon entering her large office, kicking off her pumps and leaning back in her office chair. She noticed that Malfoy had exchanged her initial mesh office chair to one of fine Italian material - even better than the couches outside his office. She breathed in the aroma of new leather, grinning like a fool.

Perhaps working with Malfoy wasn't going to be so bad after all.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews again! And if you haven't reviewed – this can be my New Year's gift from you guys! Kudos to the reviews, more specifically the reviewers, that have kept me going!