Several days later, Draco stood between Hermione's legs, kissing her as she sat on the edge of the island counter in the kitchen. His hand worked its way up her inner thigh, as her hands roamed his chest. Heat built between them and Hermione fisted his hair, angling his head to deepen their kiss.
A slow clap interrupted them, and over Hermione's shoulder, he saw Theo standing near the fireplace with a shit-eating grin on his face. He'd been so lost in Hermione that he hadn't even heard the Floo. Had Theo arrived any later, they'd have been in a much more compromising position.
While Theo was still living with Draco (per St. Mungo's orders), he was gone more often than not. He seemed happy and was doing well in his sessions, so Draco didn't see the need to press him on his whereabouts. In the normal course of things, they didn't cross paths much, only seeing each other occasionally for healing sessions. Unfortunately, today was an exception in Theo's routine.
"Well, well, well, what do we have here?! I can't believe you would keep something like this from me! How long has this lovely entanglement been going on?" Theo asked, delighted.
Hermione disentangled herself from Draco, gently pushing him back a few steps as she ran her fingers through her hair and readjusted her shirt. "Hi Theo," she greeted, her voice still slightly raspy. "How've you been? Draco tells me you're doing well?"
"Well, that's one way to describe it." A mischievous smirk lit up Theo's face. "So, you gonna answer my question, Drake?" he persisted, grabbing an apple from the counter and biting into it with a loud crunch.
Hermione giggled at the nickname, and Draco shot Theo a glare, mentally willing him to leave so he could continue what he'd started. Theo stared back, unaffected.
"It's only been a few days, and not that it's any of your business, but we're keeping it quiet for now. You know what a media shit-storm it will be when this gets out," Draco replied.
"I mean, you could have told Theo," Hermione laughed incredulously, running a hand down his arm. "Our friends should know."
"What do you mean?" he said, exasperated. "I thought we weren't telling anyone."
"Well, of course Harry, Ron, and Gin know," she said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I just assumed you'd told Theo."
Theo let out an affronted, strangled gasp and pressed a hand to his chest as if wounded. "You told the Gryffindors before me? Gryffindors? Does Blaise know?" he said gravely.
Gritting his teeth to keep from grinding them, he shook his head. "No, because we're trying to keep this quiet."
"Blaise is going to lose it when I tell him you told me first." Theo looked positively gleeful.
"Nott, don't you dare!" he called as Theo passed them, heading towards his room. Starting after him, he stopped when Hermione grabbed his arm, pulling him back to her. Draco sighed audibly in exasperation, letting his head drop back and closing his eyes.
Theo waved over his shoulder, pretending he hadn't heard him. "Stay safe kids, don't do anything I wouldn't do!"
Well this is just great... Draco felt his cheeks flush with anger and annoyance. "I'm so sorry about him. He's terribly inappropriate, but he's really a decent…" He turned, surprised to find Hermione covering her mouth to contain her laughter. At least one of us finds this situation entertaining.
"Draco, it's fine, really. I think he's kind of funny, actually."
"Whatever you do, please don't tell him that… It gets much worse, trust me," he said, rubbing at his temples.
"Now, where were we…" she said playfully, snagging the lapel of his collar and tugging him back into her embrace.
He laughed into her mouth and wrapped his arms around her.
In the office, Hermione stood in front of their wall of notes, where she had collected and posted key points in their research: paper notes, data readouts, modelling tools, and magical labels all mingled together. Draco stood beside her, examining the wall, and listening as she explained the limitations of predictive analytics. The lack of detailed information on many of the case notes and hospital records concerned her and was affecting her ability to develop a high validity predictive model. There was nothing to be done for it. They'd gathered whatever additional information they could, and it would be too tedious and invasive to find every person and interview them. It would take years to launch if they went down that road.
A knock came from the office door as the Minister of Magic swept through the open doorway, carrying a large stack of papers. "Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, I have exciting news!" he said, laying several pieces of paper from his stack on the desk. Hermione moved over to see what it was — it appeared to be transcripts of a committee hearing. "I'm happy to announce that the Wizengamot has approved my bid to create a new Ministry Department! Your work got me, and others, thinking. As Mr. Malfoy pointed out several weeks ago, we appear to be tragically ill-prepared to respond to a variety of public health crises." Hermione's eye twitched. She'd told the Ministry repeatedly that this was a gap in services and they'd never once listened when it had come from her.
"Hermione," Draco interrupted.
"What?" the Minister asked, confused by the interruption.
"Hermione has told you multiple times. I only reminded you of her concern when we last met."
Hermione wheeled her head around to look at Draco, who was staring daggers at the Minister. It might not seem like something to make a fuss over but hearing him insist on crediting her with the idea meant something, and she had to keep herself from grinning like an idiot over it.
The Minister turned red. "I mean, of course. I don't think it really matters whose idea it was right? As long as it gets done."
The look on Draco's face clearly conveyed his disagreement and the flustered Minister of Magic tried to regain control by redirecting the conversation.
"As I was saying… It came to our attention that we were woefully unprepared for a variety of social problems," —he pointedly avoided looking towards Draco— "and the Wizengamot feels the best way to address these gaps is to create a new Ministry Department. We're calling it The Department of Health and Wizarding Services!" He paused for effect. In Hermione's opinion, the creation of a government office that was standard practice in the Muggle world hardly deserved applause. Draco responded with an arched eyebrow, but nothing more. It was a tremendous improvement and could truly help transform the well-being of the wizarding community, but it was hard to be excited about it when this issue had been raised repeatedly, without effect.
Shacklebolt cleared his throat, realising that neither of them was going to react. "There will be several offices reporting to the Department. We'll be realigning the Department of Magical Education to report to the DHWS head. Several new offices are being created, namely the Office of Magical Maladies and Treatments; the Potion Regulation and Registration Board; and last but not least, the Office of Behavioural Health Services." He stage-whispered, "That's you!" behind his hand, before continuing in a regular voice. "It's brilliant! We're keeping it 'need to know' for now, of course. This is going to be the highlight of my campaign and we wouldn't want to get ahead of the PR team now would we?" he gushed.
Draco cut in before the Minister could continue. "And who exactly is going to run these departments? These are fundamental services, and this is well overdue, but adding so many new offices at once, when I can't even find qualified Mind Healers for the program, seems a tad overambitious."
"And when you say 'program', you of course mean The Office of Behavioural Health Services, right? BHS for short." He winked, and Draco rolled his eyes. Shacklebolt waved him off. "Oh Mr. Malfoy, I don't think we need to worry about those other pesky details quite yet. Besides, the other offices won't be created until after my re-election. Obviously." He laughed, like he'd said something funny. "You just worry about taking care of this Office and leave the rest to me."
Hermione tried to interject, but the Minister talked over her. "No thanks required, Ms. Granger, no thanks required. It is my sacred duty to see to the well-being and forward progress of the magical community in England."
As the Minister took his leave, Hermione opened her mouth to try again, only to be cut off once more. "Oh! And of course, your funding has been approved in full. The Wizengamot was quite excited when I explained the opportunities this will provide us— provide the community, that is... Funds should cover the first eighteen months, and we'll expect a full review of your results before extending additional funds. Simply a formality, as I am sure the two of you won't let me down!"
Before either Hermione or Draco responded, he'd swept from the room.
"Fully approved," Hermione said in awe. "That… that never happens! I hadn't even fully built out that model. It was just an academic exercise for us to base our more realistic staffing plans on!" She paced, considering the implications. "Of course, that means we're going to have to find a way to train more Mind Healers in Muggle techniques than we were expecting, which could be a challenge… Do you think we might be able to send wizards back to school for—"
Draco cut off her words by pulling her into a deep kiss. Squeaking in alarm, her eyes darted to the open conference room door, which Draco either didn't notice or didn't care about, as he held her tighter. She shoved at him half-heartedly, but he didn't release his hold on her. "Draco, we said we couldn't do this at work," she hissed. "What if someone sees? I thought you wanted to keep this quiet?"
"They won't," he murmured into her neck, nipping lightly at her sensitive skin and making her gasp. The door slammed shut, and he cast a locking spell.
Heat flickered through her abdomen as he walked her backwards towards the table, continuing to nibble at her neck. "Draco, what if Harry comes in? This is the DMLE. Do you really think a simple locking spell is going to keep anyone out?" It was difficult to keep her voice from going breathy.
"I guess it's a chance I'm willing to take." He smirked at her. "You're so fucking sexy when you're passionate about something, do you know that? There's this look in your eyes… It's like you come alive. You can imagine how much that realisation confused fourth-year Draco." He laughed and his voice grew dark. "Besides, I've been thinking of this bloody table ever since the last time Potter interrupted us. Merlin's beard, if Potter comes in here again, I swear to you I will Avada him without a second thought… Serves him right for being such a damn voyeur."
The back of Hermione's thighs hit the table, and he caged her in with his body. "But at work, Draco?" Her voice was definitely breathy now. "It's… it's wildly inappropriate," she said. The strength of her protest was somewhat diminished by her inability to resist sliding her palms up his chest.
He laughed again, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "Come on now, love, you know I'm not fooled by that Golden Girl bullshit act." Draco lifted one of her legs behind the knee, hitching it around his hip, which forced her to lean back onto the edge of the table for balance. "You've been thinking of it too, haven't you," he whispered, biting lightly on the shell of her ear.
He was right, of course. She didn't know how he knew when no one else seemed to. The Wizarding World wanted to see the Golden Girl, so that's what they saw. Any behaviour contrary, they simply dismissed, fitting her into a suffocating box of expectations. She was sick of it. She'd always been drawn to danger, even when she'd tried to avoid it. It was magnetic — she was a bloody Auror, after all! And kissing him here, on her desk, where anyone might walk in, felt dangerous. She glanced at the clock, wondering if she could find an excuse to leave early today.