Draco impatiently tapped his foot whilst waiting for Granger. It had been over three hours and she had yet to come back to her office in the Ministry building. He had asked the wizard officious assistants outside of Granger's door at least a half a dozen times when she was coming back, but all they would tell Draco was that "Miss Granger is on personal business and will return when she is finished."
Ever since the fall of Lord Voldemort, the Ministry folk had not even considered accepting a single bribe from Draco or his mother. It was maddening. Things were certainly much easier when a Malfoy could sell a little heirloom here and do a little blackmail there and accomplish what needed to be done.
Draco had all but given up and walked away in disgust. He was marching down the stairs when he noticed his quarry on the flight below him. She wears glasses now, he noticed. They suited her quite well.
It would have been perfectly sensible to wait for Hermione to reach him, but he called out, "Granger!" before he could stop himself.
Instead of looking up, the girl froze as if she could not believe her ears. A few seconds ticked by and then she raised her head, saying, "Draco Malfoy, is that really you?"
Trust the mudblood to remember what I sound like, Draco smirked inwardly.
Having Lord Voldemort use their manor as a safe house had changed the Malfoy family drastically, but none more than Lucius himself. He had gone from intimidating and overbearing to old and frail in a matter of months following the fall of the Dark Lord. Almost losing his family had shattered him and the man had wasted away to nothing in the four years after the war. As such, Narcissa had been attempting to educate Draco on other ways of getting what one wants, such as clever lies, subtlety, and tact. Most of the lessons still had yet to sink in, however.
"None other," he replied, folding his arms. He had to bite back a "mudblood" as he spoke. He highly doubted such a term would gain him favour with Granger. Old habits die hard. "You're just the person I wish to see."
The girl walked up the stairs, joining him on the landing. She eyed him warily, and said, "I am? To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Well, I'm definitely not going to let you punch me in the face again, so don't get your hopes up," he quipped.
Granger was caught so off-guard by his reply that she laughed, and she laughed hard. Draco smiled with her. Mother was right, Draco realised, a little self-deprecation goes a long way. It had completely disarmed the girl.
"Don't worry," she told him, smiling, "I won't. Unless you give me a good reason." She gave him a mockingly hard look.
Draco held up his hands, "I will endeavour to do all I can not to provoke your ire," he promised. A tall order, but Draco really didn't have any time to waste considering his mother's current condition.
"So why are you here, Draco?" Granger sounded completely mystified, as if she couldn't think of a single reason why Draco would be there. He really couldn't blame her for thinking that way–he'd never given her a reason to believe that contacting her was ever an agreeable event. And while Draco was grateful Hermione was being civil to him, he was still a bit angry with her for making him wait more than four hours. Not that she knew he was there, of course.
"Well," Draco began in a hushed tone, "do you have a place that's more private?"
"Of course!" exclaimed Granger, "we'll go to my office at once."
The girl walked back up the stairs, Draco in tow, and greeted her head assistant, "Hello, Vespa. I apologise for being late today. Please see to it that Mr. Malfoy and I are not disturbed."
She walked passed Vespa's desk and unlocked the door to her office. It was small but well-furnished. Granger had a mahogany desk with a matching chair with two guests seats in front of it. She gestured Draco to one of these. He couldn't stop himself from looking around; Granger had obviously done quite well for herself in the years after the war. In all honestly, she probably deserved every bit of what she had earned. After all, Draco mused, she did help win the war and defeat the Dark Lord. It was also a little-known fact the girl had gone back to Hogwarts after the war and graduated with fourteen "Exceeds Expectations" grades on her N.E.W.T.s. Quite impressive for a–mud– no. Draco told himself firmly, you need to stop thinking of her that way for now.
Granger, having sensed the gravity of Draco's current situation, cut to the chase. "Draco, what is wrong? I know that something serious has to be up for you to come to me, of all people. So I highly doubt this is a social call."
Draco pursed his lips, considering the girl in front of him, "Right you are, Granger."
"I have a name, you know," she said softly, removing her glasses and looking him straight in the eye. "It's Hermione."
Draco did not know why, but he could not hold her gaze. He looked down and replied, "All right...Hermione." And with that, words began tumbling out of his mouth. Although he couldn't help to explain it, for some reason Draco felt like he could trust her. He told her about
everything from his mother dying to the reason why, how he felt odd about suddenly having an elder sister, and how he worried over whether or not Arachne would even feel inclined to release Narcissa from her Vow, especially considering her own mother had given her up, and why would Arachne listen to Draco of all people, when he lived the life that she was meant to, and on and on...
Through it all, Hermione just sat there, listening, adding minimal contributions to the conversation. She even gasped and grabbed his hand as he spoke about Narcissa being in a coma.
"I realise it might be asking the impossible, but could you help me find this Arachne? I don't know who else to ask. And you are the cleverest witch of our age..."
Hermione rolled her eyes at the compliment but smiled all the same. "Draco, if your mother is dying, then we must go find Arachne as soon as possible. I would be happy to help you."
In spite of Draco's pureblood Slytherin heart, he breathed a genuine sigh of relief. He had guessed all along that Hermione would help him, but it was another thing entirely to hear her say that she would.
"And I know that I'm asking you a lot, but I was wondering if you could also...erm..."
"Fine out who Arachne's father is?"
"Yes. How did you know?" Draco asked, astonished.
Hermione smiled again and said, "Simple. It's because it's what I'd want to know too." Then Hermione considered Draco for a moment. "Would you answer me a question now?"
"Of course."
"Does your mother have a middle name?"
"Yes. It's Alethia."
A/N: To those who are reading: I won't tell you whether or not Draco and Hermione end up together, but I will tell you that I don't write 'ship-central works, unless it's for a specific challenge. Sorry to disappoint you if you are looking for a good Dramione fic. Any relationships in this work will be incidental only. =]