Disclaimer: I own nothing; just frolicking in the world of HP.
Monday morning, the Ministry of Magic buzzed with activity. In the main atrium, wizards and witches scurried from here to there, their robed forms occasionally illuminated by bright green flashes coming from the marble fireplaces that lined the walls. Violet-purple paper planes containing interdepartmental memos were already flying to their destination.
A young man with striking blonde hair walked with confidence through the lobby, his tall form, draped in black robes, seemed to demand attention and many subconsciously moved out of his way as he went by. Draco Malfoy had recently started a research project in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes to gain access to files on past incidents of failed potions. He hoped to assess the potential for recombination of mixtures to create rare magic and cures for magical ailments.
Since the war, Draco spent time in and out of the public eye. After a year of recuperation with family, he returned to Hogwarts in order to prepare for the N.E.W.T.S., which he had missed. During this time he came under the tutelage of Horace Slughorn, who remains the potions master till this day. He took kindly to Draco, whose newfound focus on scholastic achievement was admirable and proved trustworthy. Like Professor Snape, Professor Slughorn realized Draco's potential in the field of potions mastery and they quickly formed a teacher/apprentice relationship. In the coming years, the two ventured on joint research projects and published their results in articles that were well received in the wizarding world's academic realm. Slowly, Draco would mend his credibility, although he knew his Death Eater past could never be fully erased. And unexpectedly, his self-esteem would be mended by his relationship with Slughorn, who, unlike his own father, provided constructed criticism and unhitched encouragement in his studies.
As he made his way to level three of the Ministry, Draco scoffed at the heightened activity of the workers. It reminded him of why he preferred the solitary and quiet activity of potions research to the social hubbub of social work. Making his way to his corner cubicle he had to meander through a few brown packing boxes, one of which was open to reveal multiple copies of the same book. He glanced down at the title, Hinting at Magic: 20th Century Conspiracies and Possible Explanations.
"A little muggle reading for you this bright Monday morning?" Came the cheery voice of Susie McClellan, the senior assistant of the head Obliviator. She stooped down to take a few copies of the book and offered one to Draco who looked a bit confused as to her meaning. Working in an office that dealt with muggle relations was new to him and while his view of muggles had considerably lightened since the war, he remained ignorant of their happenings.
"We gathered enough of them this weekend and we're not sure what to do with them all," she added, looking at the boxes in amusement. Before Draco could respond, Susie sauntered off with the books she collected.
Making his way to his cubicle, Draco saw a purple airplane lying there waiting to be read.
Dear Draco,
It has been some time and since you're in the offices, how about meeting for lunch today?
Blaise Zabini
Head of Special Cases Unit
Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Draco quickly wrote a positive response and the paper plane ascended into the air and flew off through the door. Before beginning work he quickly glanced over at the newly printed book lying face down in front of him. A small black and white photo of its author accompanied a descriptive text of the book's contents. The girl's youthful countenance deceived the textual description of her lengthy research credentials. A tagline captured its possible security risk succinctly: "A creative work from one of Oxford's newest and brightest. Take a journey into a hypothetical world where magic exists and we are simply too blind to see it."
Draco quickly deduced why boxes of this book littered the office floor, they must have just stopped it from going into circulation. The Obliviators were also gone, undoubtedly cleaning up the minds of those who had knowledge of its contents. It was all in accordance with the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy, which safeguarded as well as divided the wizarding world from the muggle world. Draco glanced again at the picture of the young woman in the photograph; her beautiful face undoubtedly concealing a great mind. He wondered what would become of her, considering whether they had already obliviated her memory. Re-gathering his thoughts, he unlocked his bottom desk drawer and retrieved some classified files, preparing to start where he left off on Friday. He placed the muggle book in his top drawer, still contemplating whether its contents were worthy of an evening read by the fire.