It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single wizard in possession of a good fortune, must be, in point of fact, a snivelling little bitch.
This was Hermione's assertion, at any rate, and time after time, her assertion bore out.
It wasn't that she was seeking to date rich wizards; it just sort of seemed to keep happening . The evidence was only corroborated further because her every dating endeavor resulted in utter disappointment, which could ultimately be traced back aforementioned universal truth. Even Ron fell into that category now, though perhaps on the more 'modest' end of fortune the scale, and the 'whiny' end of the little bitch scale. Regardless, Hermione decided that she really needed to change up her dating game as she crossed another 'eligible' wizard off her List.
There was something severely lacking with every past paramour and evaluated candidate thus far. Hermione had simply not yet managed to put her finger on the commonality of her continual disappointment, disregarding the fact that, aside from their good fortunes, she was the only thing these men had in common.
It couldn't possibly be her .
It's not like she was desperately on the hunt for a husband or anything. Of course not. She just wanted a nice, reasonably compatible wizard to go out on dates with, and perhaps on occasion have wild, animalistic sex with. Hermione didn't think this was too much of an ask, but apparently it was, if her last three relationships were anything to go by.
And the last one could hardly be called a relationship, consisting of a single date and a bad kiss. At this point, it had been months since she'd found a potential romantic partner to engage with, and so Hermione did what she did best: she threw herself into her work.
Unfortunately, her present work required very little in the way of brain power, which allowed her mind to wander freely while still allowing her more than enough time to get double her daily quota of reports finished.
Thinking of work, she ought to finish today's, or rather next Wednesday's. Hermione pushed her List away to the side and pulled the newest stack of busywork from her inbox, flipping through the latest reports of improper use of magic to cross her desk.
She had never hoped for her role in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement to be exciting exactly- after the war, she had no desire to be an auror and had avoided the law department as much as she was able.
Realizing that her role as undersecretary in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures did not align with her ultimate aspirations had largely pushed her to the DMLE. As it stood, this was just a temporary stepping stone that was currently miring her down. In another six months she'd have a promotion and-
A double knock on her open office door drew her attention.
"Got a registration for you," Jones said, nodding to the wizard she couldn't quite see behind him.
A registration? An actual animagus registration? A small burst of excitement bubbled up; this was, at least, a novelty.
"Oh! Of course! Please come in."
She gestured for her coworker and the registree to enter, but once they did, her smile turned brittle and died a swift death.
"Granger?" Draco Malfoy's incredulous voice cut through the silence. He grabbed Jones by the sleeve of his robes.
"Is there someone, anyone, else that can take my information instead? Anyone at all?" He asked the other man near desperately.
It was a bit of an overreaction, in her opinion. She huffed a puff of air through her nose.
"Come off it, Malfoy. All animagus registrations go through me," Hermione said, rolling her eyes. He would actually be the first she'd registered, but it had been written in her official job duties, and Malfoy didn't need to know that registrations were quite so rare. "I'm sure we can be adults for the five minutes it will take for you to transform and then fill out the form."
Jones had slipped away while she was speaking, and Draco mumbled something in defeat.
"Sorry? Didn't quite catch that."
"It's personal, Granger. I don't want you knowing my business," he grumbled. Like a complete child.
Hermione bristled. But this was at least another point in favor of confirming her universal truth: if ever there were a rich wizard that was a little bitch, Draco Malfoy would be the snivellingest and bitchiest of them all.
"Registrations are a matter of public record, Malfoy. Anyone that has an interest can look it up. Even if there were someone else, I could just look it up later."
Malfoy's eyes narrowed, his jaw flexing.
"You know what? Just forget it. I don't need to register anything."
He turned to step out the door.
Hermione sighed, blowing recalcitrant curls out of her eyes.
"Do you really intend to go to Azkaban over something so foolish as not registering your animagus form because I am the one taking down your information?"
Draco stopped midstep and groaned. After a beat, he spun around and plopped languidly into the seldom used guest chair across from her.
Someone hadn't matured at all since the last time she'd seen him, it would seem. Not that she expected him to. Once a prat, always a prat.
Speaking of- she pushed her current report on top of her List to ostensibly make space for his impending paperwork. The fact that she didn't want Malfoy to see her List and become curious was incidental.
She summoned a blank copy of form M-C57AT and picked up her quill. Glancing over it, the form seemed simple and straightforward enough. This would take no time at all if Malfoy would just cooperate.
Despite this, she couldn't help making a dig at him.
"Why are you so against me in particular? Can't handle a mudblood knowing your animal form?"
He cringed at the slur, looking anywhere but at her.
"You know I don't… That's not- ugh. You'll just. You'll use it against me," he said morosely, looking anywhere but at her.
Hermione fought the grin that threatened to spread across her face, but her mouth worked faster than her brain.
"Shall I just fill in 'ferret,' then?"
Draco's eyes snapped to hers, flashing dangerously. It was much preferable to the perennial victim of misfortune that had walked into her office.
"You get nonconsensually transfigured into a ferret for five minutes, one time, and they never let you hear the end of it," Draco said, annoyed, as he ran a hand through his hair.
Oh, well, that was a bit unprofessional and rather rude of her. But on the other hand- Hermione lifted her brows. So, not a ferret? Color her intrigued.
"I'm sorry, Malfoy. That was both rude and unprofessional," Hermione said, magnanimously voicing her thoughts aloud.
He squinted at her. "Did you just apologize to me?"
His tone was incredulous, and she didn't appreciate how surprised he sounded. She had no problem acknowledging her faults and wrongdoings. Unlike some people.
"Yes, I believe so, but only in this one instance," Hermione sniffed. "Listen, I promise I won't tell anyone what your animal is that doesn't check the registry on their own, okay? I won't even mention you're an animagus. So, can we please just get this over with so I can get back to work?"
Or maybe back to the latest bit of arithmancy she'd devised regarding her List. This ill-fated encounter surely made up five reports worth of labor, at least.
"Oh, like you'd really keep this from Potter and your Weasel."
Hermione's face froze in a tight smile that made her cheeks ache. "Ron isn't my anything, and no, I will not simply volunteer this information to anyone."
"Huh, finally wizened up and dumped the tosser?" His right brow raised consideringly, with something approaching respect.
Again, the bitchiest.
"It was a mutual- you know what? We've gone far off topic. Please, just go ahead and transform, so I can note down your animal form's species and any identifying marks."
"Do they really send people to Azkaban just for failing to register? Never seen any of your lot there, and I know for a fact-"
He was stalling. How bad could it be? Some other form of rodent? A sea slug? A white peacock?
"Malfoy, you came in here and stated intent to register. Leaving before doing so would trigger an investigation, at the very least. There were only seven registered animagi in the last century."
She knew of at least four unregistered ones, and there were likely more than that roaming around the wizarding world, but after his probation, it wouldn't suit for Malfoy to be found on the wrong side of the law.
Draco looked at her, appraising.
"So, during this potential investigation, there's a change someone else will record my animagus form, instead?"
Hermione groaned. Must he be so difficult?
"You're being beyond childish, Malfoy. And no. I'd still be called in to record the details. It's literally written in my job description," she grit out.
Malfoy groaned.
"Fucking hell, Granger, fine."
The man in front of her stood and pushed the chair far out of the way. He looked around her small office as though he was verifying there was enough room. Something a bit big, then?
Hermione leaned back in her seat, ready to duck for cover. If that prat pulled a dragon out of his-
In a rush of magic, Malfoy changed.
The first and most striking thing was the color of his coat- brilliantly silvery platinum, not completely unlike his hair but also a fair bit whiter. And he was large, crowding the space of her small office.
When the transformation ended, Hermione sat agog for a full thirty seconds before remembering herself and snapping her jaw closed with a click. She tamped down the inane urge to giggle.
Oh, she now understood Malfoy's reluctance perfectly .
Not a dragon. No.
Taking up the bulk of the space in her office sat a beautiful white lion with an impressive mane and clear, doleful grey eyes.
Tapping her quill against her cheek, Hermione nodded once.
"Right. You know, it actually makes sense. Vain. Unaccountably prideful. Entitled. Annoyingly loud mouthed. Indolent, and perfectly happy to let someone else do all the work. Also happy to have a week of marathon sex, only to disappear without a trace."
With a truncated roar, he quickly shrunk back to Malfoy size to glare at her.
"See? I knew you'd be like this."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Relax, Malfoy. I'm not going to tell anyone. Besides, I have a fondness for cats. Especially big, stupid ones with their heads up their own arses."
Hermione was thinking of Crookshanks, naturally. Well, perhaps except for the 'stupid' bit. Crooksy was her clever boy.
"Did you seriously just call me stupid?" Malfoy's eyes flashed in his pique.
She looked innocently up at him through her eyelashes, and shot him the widest, most insincere smile she could muster. Of course, that would be what he focused on.
"No comment on the 'head up arse' bit, then?" Hermione asked sweetly.
Truth be told, he was the first name crossed out on her List, as well as the original exhibitory subject of her universal truth.
She moved on before he could fire off another retort. "I think I have everything I need, Mr. Malfoy. Just sign here, and I'll go back and fill it in and file your registration. You'll get a confirmation by owl post in a few days. You can go."
"Like hell I will. You're just as likely to lose my paperwork on purpose. I'm here now, and I'll see it through." His jaw took on that stubborn jut that she unfortunately found unfairly attractive.
"I would never -"
He cut her off, "And for your information, I had to leave. There was a damned contract I didn't know about."
"Ah, yes, and how is your fiancée?"
She didn't pay attention to the gossip rags, but the news had been hard to ignore when it was splashed on the front page glaring up at her for what seemed like weeks.
"She's not my anything now, Granger." He said, tossing her words about Ron back in her face, "I bought the contract out."
Hermione opened her mouth to snipe back, but snapped it shut. Getting Draco Malfoy out of her office would be far more productive than pointlessly arguing with him.
Especially now that they had established they were unattached.
Or at least not attached to their previous paramours?
Regardless, he needed to go.
Malfoy dragged the guest chair to its proper position and slumped gracefully back into it.
He needed to go, but Hermione was blastedly curious about far too many things to do with him. If he'd bought out his contract, why had he never contacted her again? Did he regret their admittedly brief association? Why had he become an animagus to begin with?
A lion hadn't been in the realm of her expectations, but she had to admit it made a twisted sort of sense for every reason she had listed. The lion's job was to sit around and look pretty unless he needed to protect the pride; it was the lionesses that did the bulk of the work.
Hermione both quashed and stamped on the parallel her brain was trying to draw. But as she tapped her quill on the as yet blank form, she had to ask, "Is it really so bad? Your animal form?"
Draco bristled, selecting his words carefully.
"It's not what I would have chosen."
"But becoming an animagus is a major accomplishment. You should be proud." Hermione almost couldn't believe the words coming out of her mouth. Telling Malfoy to be proud? What kind of upside-down world was she living in?
"It's not a practical or discreet transformation, though, is it?"
"Well, no," Hermione agreed, tapping her foot in time with her quill, "but you do make a handsome lion."
For an instant, Draco preened before he thought better of it and squinted at her, searching her words for a hidden jibe. Hermione flushed under the attention before clearing her throat.
"I'm being serious, Malfoy. I'm even admittedly a bit jealous. I always wanted to be an animagus," she said wistfully. "I have always wondered what my animal would be. My patronus manifested as an otter, but I was very young, and it was before, well, everything."
Hermione gestured vaguely.
"Well, what's stopping you now?" Draco challenged.
There were many things she could have said as an excuse. Some of them came back to her ill-fated List and search for a paramour which took entirely too much apparently flawed arithmancy and analytical focus, were she to be honest. Admitting as much felt entirely foolish.
"Keeping a mandrake leaf under my tongue for a month is a bit impractical," she finally settled on saying.
His brows scrunched.
"Is that what you think it takes? Who told you that?"
"Sirius Black." She shrugged and turned her attention back to form M-C57AT, quickly jotting down the relevant observations before sliding the parchment over to his side of the desk.
She had, of course, looked up the process herself ages ago, likely from the same source the marauders had used. Managing to keep a leaf in the mouth, brewing a complicated potion, and waiting on a rare English lightning storm were definite deterrents and an attestation to why animagi were so rare to begin with. Though giving it further thought, witches and wizards all over the world had been becoming animagi for centuries. The mandrakes the process called for were native to Europe and the other types in other regions were not nearly as magically potent. It stood to reason that there might be alternative methods.
And of course, Malfoy would be the one to find them.
"If that's all correct, please sign on the solid line."
He signed with a flourish, and the parchment glowed briefly, making a duplicate for Malfoy before the original folded itself into an airplane shape and flew off to its appropriate spot in the registration queue for all magical documents. Which was excellent because that meant she could finally be rid of him. Draco Malfoy had given her far too much to mull over in a short period of time. But then, he seemed to be good at that.
"When did you move to the DMLE? I thought you wanted to work with creature legislation," Malfoy asked.
Damn. Apparently they were doing the actual talking thing now. She should have just kept her mouth shut and her curiosity to herself.
The question was innocuous enough; she didn't see the harm in answering, knowing how very stubborn the man could be if she outright refused. Answering was the most expedient course to getting her work day back on track.
"A while back now. Six months, give or take. Just- I needed a change." Hermione didn't care to elaborate that change was needed because her life had been a chaotic hazard after their ill-fated fling last year. Nor did she mention her subsequent, even more foolish, decision to go back to Ron.
At least that stupidity had been brief.
Draco clenched his jaw, nodding once and seemingly coming to a decision.
"Come to dinner with me."
"Wha?" she sputtered before defensively crossing her arms over her chest. "No. Definitely not. I'm not going to make the same mistake twice."
"And how many times did you go running back to Weasley?"
Hermione swallowed thickly. Did he know that she had gone back to Ron last year? How- she rolled her eyes at herself. The gossip rags, of course. Just because she didn't pay them any mind didn't mean the rest of the wizarding world didn't.
Hermione opened her mouth to defend her life choices, but Malfoy wasn't finished saying his piece.
"Seems to me like you make the same mistake a bunch of times, just to be sure, where he's concerned, but you won't even afford me a single second chance when the original circumstances were out of my control."
"Well," Hermione's mind blanked. What could she even say that would not amount to her simply being prideful and contrary?
She wasn't about to admit that when she and Ron broke up, it was old hat. The first time, she had been mildly upset, but the fifth? It was a relief. Though, this time had admittedly felt different to the others because now she hopefully knew better than to go back to that train wreck of a relationship ever again.
When the whirlwind that had been her and Malfoy had ended, it was like a slap in the face. It stung. A lot more than it should have when they hadn't actually agreed to anything in the first place. Hermione had spent far longer ruminating over their non-relationship than they had spent… engaging in it.
"Fine, don't come to dinner with me," he said, leaning back in his chair and lifting a brow in challenge. "But at least let me teach you how to become an animagus the proper way, without any of that mandrake leaf nonsense."
"I-" It was on the tip of her tongue to decline outright, get Malfoy out of her office and out of her life for good, but Hermione drew up short. Did she really want him gone, or was it simply a matter of residual hurt feelings and maybe a teensy bit of spite?
Malfoy's offer would put them in close contact for at least a month or two. Given what might occur during that time, she could, perhaps, give him another chance. It was obvious that was what he was angling for since he rescinded his dinner invitation. At worst, spending that time with him would only further solidify her universal truth; she was far past shedding any tears over Draco Malfoy. And at best?
Well, it would be a novel occasion that she might be happy to be proven wrong.
Hermione tucked her hair behind her ear, licking her suddenly painfully dry lips. In the end, it was her curiosity and the feeling of potential in the air that spurred her answer.
What if-
"All right, then. If you're willing to teach me, I think- I think I'd like that."
It was a point of pride, after all. Hers and his.