Chapter 6 The King and I[Dollhouse by Switchblade Symphony]

During their next research session, Draco played some more of his music for Hermione. Together, they sat on the couch reviewing more books, frequently helping each other gain insights to the elusive were-wolf repelling lotion. A couple of more books later, Hermione hit a stumbling block. "Draco, this one is in Italian."

"I'll take that one," he stated as she handed it to him.

"You speak Italian? It's such a beautiful language, my favorite actually," she commented.

"I spent many summers in Rome." Flipping through the book towards the werewolf section, he spotted a picture of a sprite that bore an uncanny resemblance to Hermione, causing him to laugh aloud.

"What's so funny," she asked innocently. The brief excerpt under the Crisalide heading caused him to laugh even more as he compared the two. "Tell me now!"

As she sat next to him, he showed her the picture of the silver winged sprite with long wild honey colored hair amid silver highlights, almond eyes and a pixie face wearing a somewhat medieval styled gauzy silver gown. "Crisalide is a pint sized fairy that uses clever spells and charm to combat evil." Chuckling, he glanced once more at the picture then at her. "That describes you perfectly."

"Stop making fun of my height." Her eyes squinted and mouthed pursed in annoyance. "Malfoy, I will not tolerate insults from you."

"Back to Malfoy now? Oh Hermione, it is not an insult, at all." Holding her shoulders, despite her pout he continued. "Maybe you're not statuesque but you are adorable." Pushing the book once more into her view, Hermione turned away. "She is positively enchanting just like you, clever and charming." Hermione continued to pout but stared at the ceiling. "C'mon, look at her. I won't translate if you don't."

Eventually, she looked at the picture and smiled. "You swear you're not insulting me."

"I promise on my honor."

"We do look alike." As she studied the picture, she smiled while he read the selection. Then he continued to the section on werewolves where he read various excerpts from the book; first in Italian and then translated it, giving insights throughout. "You really understand all the intricacies of even the most advanced potion making."

"Yes, I do," he replied. "You assumed I did well because I was a pure-blood." She averted her eyes. "I understand why you feel that way but let me assure you that I did well in school based on my own merits, just not a well as you." He read several more excerpts. "As a code for lab partner, I'll call you Crisalide." She laughed at that one. "Please stay for dinner."

"Thanks. I'd love to," she smiled. "How do you say pure in Italian?"

"Puro, why?"

"I'll call you Puro, short for pure-blood."

Throughout dinner they chatted and laughed like friends, leaving Draco to wonder that night as she left if they were now friends.

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During the week, Draco did his internship duties and hung out with his pure-blood brethren. Most still ignored their Provectus Potions lab partners, refusing to accept the changes that the post Voldemort world thrust upon them. Many simply didn't know how to change while many others still felt that Mudbloods endangered their pure-blood traditions. This knowledge prompted Draco to put his ideas into a law proposal.

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At their next research meeting, Draco presented Hermione with his proposed law. "Many of the pure-bloods backed Voldemort because they thought he would preserve their endangered traditions. Maybe laws protecting the pure-blood family's laws would stop anyone like him from coming to power again." He handed her his draft of the law he wrote. "Would you take a look at this?"

"Sure," she replied. Hermione read the summary which basically stated that pure-bloods could enforce their own family decrees and laws as long as they didn't violate the laws of the Ministry. Further, it guaranteed that any member of such a family had the right to leave that family if they disagreed with their family's decrees. If any decree violated Ministry law, the Ministry could review that family's laws but were bound by a privacy spell never to reveal them to the public. An extensive outline detailed those laws so they were airtight but at the same time maintained checks and balances. "This is brilliant."

"You really think so?"

"Definitely and it doesn't intend harm to my kind." Hermione poured him some tea so they could begin their studying. "You can have a real future doing this."

As he grabbed another book and some parchment, Draco smiled to himself, thinking about her assurances.

Several hours later, they read each other's notes and inspiration struck. "Everyone uses Wolf's Bane which in its pure form merely makes a werewolf dizzy. However, maybe we can make the potion without it."

"Because Wolf's Bane may in fact diminish the effectiveness of the other ingredients since it interferes with their scent and most animals are creatures of scent," he interjected.

Impulsively, she hugged him. "Exactly!" Swiftly, she pulled back. "Sorry."

Impulsively, he kissed her on her forehead. "Don't be. We're friends. I'm really glad we're lab partners despite our shaky start." Refusing to meet her gaze, he reached for the pot of tea and poured. "I apologize for all the awful things I've ever said and done to you in the past."

"Why did you continually harass me, more than anyone?" she asked with a touch of anger and hurt.

"As a child, I didn't know any better." Sheepishly, he looked down. "You did better than me in classes and I was jealous. I had been lead to believe that you were shown favoritism because of your mudblood status." Right after he said the word, her bottom lip trembled slightly and her eyes became glassy. "As I got older, I realized that wasn't the case. You were just smarter." She turned, refusing to look at him. "When I look at you now, I only see Hermione and what I see is terrific." She rose and walked towards the door. "Please forgive me."

"Draco, I can forgive you eventually because I think we are making progress. You're asking a lot if you think that eight years of mistreatment can be forgiven in a fortnight." She looked at him dejectedly. "Only when we started this project did you start acting nice. Why were you so awful just prior? You far exceeded yourself and it's not like we're children anymore."

"I know," he sighed. "This may not make sense but there's something about your friend Mickey. I can't put my finger on it but there's something deceptive about him that I guess I just associated with you. Because of our history, I just fell into the same old behavior." When he looked back to her, she paled and trembled slightly. "There is something going on, isn't there? You can confide in me."

"Considering our history, I don't think I could ever have complete faith and trust in you. For one thing, you only talk to me when your pure-blood friends aren't around but when they are you ignore me." Returning to her seat, she glanced at him nervously. "I can't confide in you because of something, … you did."

"Go on, let's get this out of the way."

Now for the question she always wanted to know. "You switched sides just when we all thought you might have changed. You wanted to rejoin the Death Eaters. That is why I had such a hard time believing anything you say but I'm trying. Maybe if I understood."

"When Voldemort was here, the things I saw, horrible, vile…and the things I was forced to do! If I wasn't so skilled at Occlumency, he would've sensed how much I hated it." Draco started shaking. "If he suspected that I didn't follow him, my family."

"We could've helped you. Why didn't you say something to us?"

"Only those who wear halos may join your side. I have never been more alone then or now! " Draco stood abruptly, clenching his fists. "I look after myself." Memories of all the horrific things he witnessed and even had been forced to do churned in his stomach. "Excuse me; you can show yourself out."

Pondering his words what had happened during his tenure with Voldemort, Hermione sat contemplating what to do next. Looking around, she thought about Draco alone in this mansion. Maybe he got what he deserved but enough was enough. Tip-toeing around, she overheard puking from inside his room. In the kitchen, she fixed a plate of crackers, an iced glass of apple juice and a cold towel. Then she waited for him.

Finally, Draco emerged looking ragged in his pajama bottoms and a robe. Immediately, he closed the robe but not before she saw some scars on his torso. "Why are you still here?"

"Because I care and I want you to know, you're not alone," she softly replied. "You should eat some crackers. They'll help your stomach." As he ate the crackers, he eyed her suspiciously. "This will make you feel better." Once he finished the crackers, she patted the wet towel against his face. "Those scars were they from when Harry…"

"Yes," he replied as he laid down on the couch.

"We all have scars from our past. It's the ones you can't see that hurt the most." Lightly, she brushed his hair back and kissed his forehead. "Let's put the past behind us. Things will get better. I promise."

"You're very compassionate." After she held his hand for awhile, he finally relaxed and closed his eyes. "If only I had a friend like you back then."

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The next morning Draco awoke on the couch and reflected on his time knowing Hermione. No matter how much he tried to deny it, she befriended him, showing him more amity than anyone he had ever known. If he decided to go through with the bet, would she be just another conquest? Strangely enough, he never enjoyed any of his former pure-blood girlfriends' company more nor found any of them as attractive. For some reason, all his prior deception bothered him and the bet even more. Maybe it's because she wouldn't abandon me.

After her show of confidence in him, he revisited his career choice. "Things will get better," she said. Now, he believed it. While he would continue the governorship of Hogwarts per the family tradition, he could pursue his own inclinations in government. When his father returned, he would gladly relinquish the governorship. From his observations and studies of the Ministry, especially under Fudge's administration, over the centuries the Ministry had become overly bureaucratic and therefore ineffective. All it needed was dark wizard's touch to run smoothly.

Because the Ministry of Magic was still in disarray, it made perfect timing. A position in the Archival section of the Department of Magical Games and Sports had remained open for several months. It carried little prestige while the Ministry reserved it for wizards and witches nearing retirement. The bylaws of the position allowed for great power and influence that went unused since it was just thought of as sports. In this position, he could submit his proposed pure-blood law directly for a vote in the International Magical Office of Law bypassing regular procedure which could take years. Draco devised a history for Adam Ocrolfy so he could get the position covertly. Over the next several days, he spent every waking moment forging and post dating documents from key personnel within the ministry, all without a trace using his Falsus Plume, a dark wizard's scribe that allowed him to imitate anyone's handwriting. He also studied the mistakes the ministry had made with Voldemort's return so he could learn from them.

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During that week, when not interning, Draco spoke to key personnel in the Ministry on behalf of Adam, starting with Oz Bedlam, an official who recruited Aurors. On a midday surprise visit, he found Oz's assistant, Soleil Copperpot, busily reviewing senior students transcripts while Oz reviewed Witch Weekly, feet propped on his desk. Draco observed the opulence of Oz's office and inhaled deeply the light, musky smoke of very tasteful incense before saying anything. "Good afternoon, Oz," he greeted.

Oz, a mere slip of a wizard with the beginnings of crows' feet and a thatch of long brown hair with tinges of grey, wearing very expensive robes, nearly fell out of his seat. "Uh, good afternoon, Draco," he replied. "What brings you here?"

"I need to ask a quick question," he answered. "What percentage of departmental funds is used for payroll for field Aurors?"

"Over 95%; well above the departmental norm," he proudly boasted.

Draco's spine tingled as he instantaneously: observed Oz's eyes shifting very slightly, smelled perspiration from him and heard Oz's heart rate increase. In a flash, his heightened senses returned to normal. "Thank you. You are doing an excellent job here. I'll pass that information to my father." He paused at the door. "I'll see you in the near future."

On his way out, Draco stopped by Soleil's desk who barely looked up as she reviewed some departmental memos. "Soleil, you're doing an excellent job. Maybe, we can do lunch sometime and you can tell me your thoughts about the department?"

A smile formed beneath her neon orange horn rimmed glasses. "I would like that." Brushing her brown hair back nervously, she glanced back towards her boss.

"Don't worry, everything will be strictly confidential." On the corner of her desk, he place his business card. "By the way, lunch will be on me."

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A few more interviews were similar with Draco making lunch dates with key assistants to get the entire truth. All weekend and through Monday morning, he worked around the clock between interviews and detailing more plans. For lunch, he visited Hogwarts. In the dining hall, he marched straight to the intern's table and sat next to Hermione, planting a kiss on her forehead as he did. Amongst the clatter of several nearby utensils hitting the table, she looked at him dubiously. Several of his pure-blood almost friends sneered which unnerved him. However, when Mickey got up from the table and left in a huff, he knew it was worth it, leaving him to converse with the cleverest witch he knew.