Draco Malfoy paced back and forth across the dark-tiled lobby of the Department of Mysteries.
Since the day he had felt his Mark activate, Draco had been a nervous wreck. He had been out for drinks at The Salty Dragon that night, reminiscing on his Hogwarts days with a few old friends, when that familiar searing pain flared up on the inside his forearm. He had spilled his mug of ale and Apparated away without paying or saying goodbye.
Draco took refuge at the Malfoy estate, and told his girlfriend Astoria that he would be traveling for a few days. The Manor had been empty since Narcissa had moved into one of their seaside cottages, but Draco felt much safer at his family home. The wards had been fortified after the war so that only Malfoy blood could enter.
After a few hesitant moments, Draco finally worked up the courage to push open the heavy doors and enter Hermione's office.
Hermione sat at her desk, dutifully scribbling away at some mile-long parchment. She looked up and seemed surprised, then troubled, to see him.
"Malfoy…. hi," she said, dropping her quill.
"Hello, Granger," he replied hoarsely.
Her wide brown eyes shone with sympathy, as if knew the torment he was in. Draco crossed his arms over his chest protectively.
"I apologize for the intrusion, but I wanted to ask whether you'd had a chance to speak to Potter about my mother's trial."
"Shit. I'm so sorry, it's completely slipped my mind," Hermione said. "Next time I see him I'll make sure to mention it."
Draco gulped.
"I was hoping you would find time to do it as soon as possible. I'm afraid they've moved the up questioning to next week."
"Next week? I thought you said it wasn't supposed to be for another month."
"It wasn't, I just got word today. Gods, It's all a total mess," Draco said, rubbing his eyes. "Our barrister isn't prepared at all."
Hermione wasn't sure what to say.
"I wouldn't expect Potter to testify again, but if there's anything he can do. Absolutely anything."
Hermione opened her mouth and inhaled as if about to speak, but pursed her lips.
"I'll talk to Harry today. I can't promise anything. But I will try."
Hermione took a shaky breath and splashed her face with water from the sink. There was a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with the soul bond.
The moment she saw Draco, Hermione came face to face with the reality she had been avoiding since leaving her captivity. Draco had the Mark. He knew Voldemort was back. The thought hadn't crossed Hermione's mind, and she kicked herself for failing to consider that Death Eaters across the world would be ready for their Lord to ascend.
Why hadn't she just snapped Bellatrix's wand when she had the chance?
By marking Hermione, Voldemort had effectively ruled out the possibility of exposure. What would it look like to the Wizengamot? The witch had helped him recover his corporeal body, after all. Now, her only option was to kill him.
But how? The bond between them was dark, primeval, and complex. Even after several readings of Magia Sufletului, Hermione wasn't quite sure she understood it. She had no idea what the Killing Curse would do to Voldemort, or to herself.
Besides, if Hermione died and he somehow survived, the entire Wizarding World was at risk.
Even if she figured out how to do it, killing Voldemort was no simple task. What if he had already created a Horcrux? What if Hermione was deemed culpable for murder? She was certain there was some archaic Wizarding law that would send her straight to Azkaban.
No, she wouldn't kill him.
She would keep him alive for now. At least until she found a way to make sure his soul was permanently destroyed.
If Hermione had stayed at her desk, she would have seen Tom lingering outside the door just as Malfoy walked out.
"Miss Granger?"
The witch started, spilling her favorite ink all over the desk. She irritably vanished the ink and looked up to see Voldemort towering over her desk.
Adrenaline pumped through Hermione's body. She should have been terrified that the Dark Lord had just walked into her office, but rather than fear, Hermione felt a surge of power.
Kill him. Kill him now. It's your chance.
Tom smiled, sensing Hermione's agitation. It made him feel powerful to see the instant effect he had on the witch.
"Allow me to introduce myself," said Voldemort. "I'm Tom Volos."
"Cut the bullshit," Hermione hissed, casting a subtle Muffliato.
Tom really hated when she swore.
"Please, Hermione, do act civilly. Both of our jobs are on the line now."
Hermione stared at him incredulously.
"What are you talking about?"
The corners of Tom's lips quirked ever so slightly.
"Oh, haven't you heard? I've just accepted a position as a legislative aide in the office of Warlock Fawley."
"How on Earth did you get a Ministry job?" Hermione spat, with no regard towards whom she was speaking. "You've got to have years of experience and excellent recommendations to even make it to the interview."
Tom grinned and ran a hand through his raven hair in a show of faux modesty. Annoyingly, Hermione noticed, his waves seemed to fall even more perfectly.
"Some of us are a little more talented than the rest, I suppose."
Hermione looked around. Her colleague Rosie Wilkinson was eyeing her, probably curious about the tall, handsome wizard talking to mousy little Granger. Hermione's heart thudded. What if someone recognized him?
"Why are you here?"
"I was hoping to reimburse you for the money you lent me for these dress robes," Tom said, handing her a small envelope. "I've been given quite a generous signing bonus, and I just wanted to drop off a cheque as soon as I could."
Hermione was flummoxed. Was Voldemort really paying her back? She accepted the envelope in disbelief.
"Well, I'll be off, then. It was lovely to see you again, Hermione."
Tom turned with a dramatic swish of his cloak.
"By the way," he said before stepping out the door, "you are welcome."
The next morning, Hermione was called into Firestone's office. She stepped into the room to see the Head of the Department of Mysteries, a middle-aged wizard with sage eyes and an easy smile.
"Oh! Head Unspeakable Selwyn, hello!" Hermione said, reaching out to shake his hand.
"Hello, Miss Granger, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Please, have a seat."
Selwyn sat down and gestured towards the chair next to him.
Hermione plopped down on the chair unceremoniously, hiding her trembling hands in her lap.
"The Head Unspeakable and I have just been chatting about your recent research on the Veil," said Firestone with barely concealed distaste.
"Indeed we have. I must say, this work is simply groundbreaking," said Selwyn. "Now, the reason I am here is that there has been an increase in funding for research from the Wizengamot. They have directed a specific allotment towards runic studies."
"That's incredible!" Hermione said. "The research departments have been underfunded for decades."
"That they have. In light of the funding increase, Melissa and I would like to offer you a promotion to Junior Unspeakable."
Hermione's jaw dropped. She looked toward her supervisor for assurance.
"Unspeakable? B-but I'm unqualified," Hermione stuttered. "I have no formal research experience, and I've only been employed here for a few years."
"Based on your findings, Miss Granger, I would say you are more than qualified. However, if you feel unprepared, we will of course respect your wishes to remain in an administrative current role.
"No, no, I'd be absolutely honored to accept, sir!"
"Wonderful. I'll be in touch," said the Head Unspeakable.
Hours after the meeting, Voldemort's parting words echoed in Hermione's head.
You are welcome.
After work, Hermione stopped by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
"I'm here to see Harry Potter," she told the receptionist.
"Name, please?"
Hermione wanted to roll her eyes. She knew Harry was a big shot now, but she surely deserved some level of recognition. The receptionist called Harry and sent Hermione to his office.
The dark-haired wizard met her at the door with a much-needed hug.
"How are you doing, 'Mione?"
"Good, thanks, Harry," she said.
"I feel like I've hardly seen you lately. Something's going on, I can tell."
Hermione shook her head.
"No, everything's fine. Actually, better than fine. I've just been promoted to Junior Unspeakable."
"What, an Unspeakable? Hermione, that's wonderful!"
Harry enveloped her in another fierce hug.
"Come, sit down," Harry said, pulling out a chair for Hermione. "Is that what you came to tell me? We've got to celebrate!"
"I actually came to ask you a favour." Hermione said.
"Of course. What can I do for you?"
"Not for me. It's Malfoy.
Harry furrowed his brow.
"Malfoy? What does he want?"
"Well, I ran into him yesterday. Did you know Narcissa Malfoy is on trial again?"
Harry looked genuinely surprised.
"What? Narcissa was cleared years ago. The War couldn't have been won without her. I told the Wizengamot that she saved my life in the testimony."
"I know, it makes absolutely no sense," Hermione said. "Well, Malfoy didn't ask me directly, but I think he would be really grateful if you could testify for her again."
Harry furrowed his brow.
"What is it?" The witch asked.
"Hermione… you know I'm up for promotion to Deputy Head this year," he said. "It doesn't exactly look good to testify on behalf of a war criminal."
"She's no angel, but she doesn't deserve to go to Azkaban," said Hermione.
"No, she doesn't," Harry agreed. "I just don't know if I can take that chance. I've got two kids to think about now, it's just not that simple."
Hermione would have been lying if she said she wasn't surprised. The Harry she knew would have risked everything to do what was right.
"I understand that, of course. But I think it's the right thing to do, Harry."
"I dunno. I'll see what I can do," Harry sighed. "Maybe I can pull some strings. I'm friendly with some of the prosectors."
"Good. Malfoy said anything at all you could do would be helpful."
The two old friends chatted for a few moments about Ginny and the kids, and Hermione relished in a few moments of normalcy.
Harry's owl interrupted their conversation by dropping the afternoon edition of the Prophet on his desk.
A story on the new education bill, the PARITY Act, was blazoned on the front cover. The Protect Academic Rights and Innocence for Teenagers and Youths was one of the most controversial pieces of legislation since the War. Members of the Wizengamot were proposing to remove Defense Against the Dark Arts and all mentions of the Wizarding Wars from first and second-year curriculums.
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Ugh, that awful bill. It's like they're trying to pretend that the war never happened. It's ludicrous!"
"Yeah, I was shocked when I heard. Reminds you of Umbridge a bit, doesn't it?" said Harry. "James and Albus will be lucky to have an Auror at home to teach them."
"It's so misguided. And not teaching about the War? They're almost like Muggle Holocaust deniers. It's downright offensive, especially to those of us who have lost loved ones."
"I don't know, Hermione, I sort of see their point on that," Harry said. "It's an ugly part of history that maybe children should be shielded from."
"Well, I'm sure you've heard the quote 'those who don't learn from history are doomed to repeat it."
"Of course. But wizarding society is changing right now, Hermione. Things aren't like when we were at school," said Harry.
"In what way?"
"I've been speaking with McGonagall. The new generation, they don't care about blood status. There are muggle-borns getting sorted into Slytherin, and children of Goyles and Greengrasses in Gryffindor. Maybe we should try to preserve that instead of being divisive."
"Yes, maybe," Hermione said. But deep down, she had an inkling that something sinister was going on.