Chapter 03; Somethings Gone Terribly Awry
Draco Malfoy waited, his patience already stretched thin by all the posturing formalities for the arrival of the Inspector from the newly set up Department of Muggle Liaisons. The prospect of yet another imposition to scrutinize the Malfoy family was far from welcoming. And how pathetically transparent, he sighed in frustration.
But when the witch finally made her appearance, it was the last person on Earth he would've expected to show: Hermione Granger, her fiery mane now tamed into a sleek bun atop her head, exuded an air of quiet authority striding into the room with purpose. Wisps of hair framed her face, softening the sharp angles of her rather determined features. Draco was momentarily taken aback by the not so subtle transformation of the famed Golden Girl, the contrast between the untamed curls he remembered from Hogwarts and the controlled elegance she now presented. He'd barely taken a good look at her yesterday but Draco could swear she had on least a few charms holding the untameable mop of hair in it's rather- elegant, he begrudgingly admitted, updo. She was dressed in a shirt lazily tucked in to a pencil skirt that showed off the shape of her long legs. Draco was now staring. Granger, he thought to himself almost amusedly, if anyone told him he would one day be checking out the Muggle born obnoxious witch-demon of Gryffindor.. he'd have Stupefied them on sight.
Granger, however to her credit, simply eyed him head to toe accompanied with a prompt scrunch of her brows. "Mr. Malfoy." she greeted him, not unpleasantly. Interesting, Draco thought, given their brief entangle just yesterday. "Mrs. Weasley." he greeted her with a nod of his head not missing the way her lips pursued at the sound of the name.
"It's Ms. Granger, actually."
So Granger was the newly appointed head of Muggle Liasons. Well, Lucius is not going to be pleased about this development. Though Draco wondered if this meant she'd given up her job at the Bureau of Investigations, quite infamous for her work alongside the Unspeakables. Word has it that the only reason Granger wasn't already head of the Department of Mysteries was her largely high profile coming in the way of being an Unspeakable herself.
"Ms. Granger-" the irony was not lost on him as the words rolled out off his tongue easily. The last time he'd uttered her name out loud was without doubt in accompaniment with a cruel slur or the other and with the almost, almost imperceptible flinch on her features, Draco wondered if she recalled the same. "-it is then. Before we begin, I believe we may have.." Draco paused trying to find the right words to diplomatically navigate the little incident of their previous meeting, "gotten off the wrong foot. I was out of line and I believe I owe you-"
"There is no need for any of that, Mr. Malfoy," she busily looked around as she walked forward not waiting for him to lead her in. "I am only here to do my job and my.. personal opinion or feelings on whatever transpired that day are irrelevant I assure you." There it was, that Gryffindor sense of black and white morality. "Shall we?" she ushered at him.
"Definitely." Draco walked passed her and she followed him through the open floor plan of the office, the sound of her heels click-clacking on the marble not lost to him. His mind was reeling, it seemed too much of a coincidence how Granger had showed up out of the blue around the area just yesterday, and now was assigned Head of Muggle Liaisons overseeing Malfoy Consolidated? Maybe Lucius had reason to suspect some foul play on their end after all?
Her gasp brought him back to reality as her eyes widened as if in disbelief at the sight in front of her. Men and women dressed in Muggle attire, some working in cubicles, some scurrying about uttering hurried greetings to him, no wonder she was surprised. "So tell me," she turned to face him at that, "how exactly do you plan on upholding the Vow of Secrecy whilst still in close proximity with your un-magicked employees."
"Well, as detailed in our proposal, this operation complies with the Vow of Secrecy as it does not implement any aspect of the Magical in plain view of our employees, or rather- anyone actually. We merely employ the sky charts of Divination as one small factor in our algorithm, not accessible to anyone on the front end."
"Divination," she almost scoffed.
"Yes. Divination. Though a fair bit of Arithmancy to it too," and just like that, Draco found himself almost half relieved to be drawn into a discussion of the amalgamation of magical prediction with the highly effective muggle technology of algorithms analysis global events, even if it was with the one person who seemed to loathe him the most. Whatever, to get her to not cause him any more trouble. If only for her own good..
She grabbed her quill out. "And if you may expand on the exact magical aspects that go into your.. prediction algorithm.." she looked at him quizzically at that almost as if she couldn't believe she was having a conversation about muggle tech with Draco Malfoy, of all the people in the world.
"Proprietary information, I'm afraid." he couldn't help the smirk that stretched on his face at that. He knew how much she hated not knowing things and as if on cue, Granger frowned.
"Well, have you filed a claims with the Department of Intellectual Properties and Maintenance?"
"Yes of course, patent pending."
Her eyes held a certain spark to them at that as if she did not expect him to have done the due diligence necessary. Hermione leaned forward, her eyes curious. "So, Mr. Malfoy, your company's primary business involves integrating the Muggle financial markets with magical elements namely divination and astronomy. So how exactly do you ensure the seamless fusion of these two worlds?"
Draco straightened in his chair, he wouldn't lie. If she was someone else, he would've been thoroughly impressed by her keen interest. "Well, Ms. Granger, it's a delicate balance. The core of our operation relies on the data analysis techniques the muggles—"
"Predictive data analysis, of the Muggle financial markets, you mean?" Hermione interrupted, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes, precisely," Draco continued, undeterred. "Stocks, forex, the whole jazz truly. We employ cutting-edge algorithms and machine learning, but here's where it gets interesting, we infuse these methods with ah, let's call it magical predictive elements. It's a bit like augmenting the precision of Muggle technology with the foresight and interpretive abilities of Divination-"
"Backed with Arithmancy." she finished for him. "That's fascinating, Mr. Malfoy. But isn't there a risk of exposure? Muggle technology is advancing rapidly; they could stumble upon the magical components."
Draco nodded. "Indeed, it's a concern. Albeit minimal. In the event of any potential breach, our magical algorithms self-correct or, in extreme cases, shut down the magical layer they run on, appearing as a mere glitch to the Muggle analysts."
If her eyes could pop out of her head, it would've and that fact left Draco feeling oddly smug about himself. Today wasn't that bad a day after all, he stretched cracking his neck as nonchalantly as he could seem but he was sure that if Granger had suspected anything of Lucius' antics she'd have in some way tried to glean it out of him.. which she hasn't. Hermione Granger had been utterly professional, not uttering a single question outside of the scope of her visit. Besides of that.. something about getting her, the Hermione Granger herself, dumbstruck made him feel.. validated. Oh, if only Theo or Blaise or even Pansy- Draco's jaw tightened at that as soft creases formed on his forehead as he stopped the train of thought before it could take root. For now, he wasn't going to let himself think of his former friends, for now he was only going to focus on getting the Ministry approvals necessary and stay rich. Muggle or Magical it did not matter. Not anymore. Right now, he was going to focus on Hermione Granger's genuine interest in his company which Draco couldn't help but be surprised by her depth of knowledge. Yes, he was going to focus on her- on this for now.
She knew what she was talking about. So much for Lucius plans that simply confusing the Interrogator with Muggle terms and flowery words of assurances and perhaps a little greasing of palms would've sufficed. But not with her, she was good at this, too good. But then there were few things Granger wasn't good at. Almost offhandedly Draco wondered; she had always been a teacher's pet. It wouldn't be far-fetched to think she might have a thing for authority figures. Putting aside Slytherin common room gossip about the Gryffindor Princess, a memory unraveled in his mind's eye. She was in the library, as usual, but this time, it was past midnight. It must've been in their fourth year, around the time her fling with Victor Krum had presumably ended after his departure to Drumstrang. Draco recalled that one incident, when he had been searching for some textbook or the other and, following their routine as when in presence of each other, engaged in an argument with Granger. He couldn't remember what it was about, but it had ended with him taunting her with an "Oh well, good little girl Granger, following all the rules as usual." She had promptly cursed at him, grabbed her books, and stomped away. But not before he noticed a visible blush color her cheeks. Draco had been particularly jubilant the whole week after.
He felt the intense urge to test her reaction now, if he were to call her "a good girl" right then, right there.. But he knew better. At least he thought so. So instead Draco said, "You know an awful lot about advanced Muggle sciences for a witch," his voice laced with a tinge of grudging respect, but the minute the words left his mouth, he realized his mistake. That was the worst thing he could say to her.
The witch's response was swift, her tone sharp. "I am a Mudblood, remember?" Her words hung heavy in the air. "It means-" she continued nonchalantly, only to be cut off by Malfoy's terse interruption. "I know what it means, Granger," he replied, the reminder stirring a turbulent mix of guilt and defensiveness within him, that threatened to unravel the fragile semblance of civility they had managed to maintain thus far.
She was fuming he could see, and for a moment he couldn't help but wonder if he messed it all up.
As if his blunder yesterday wasn't enough.. His father would kill him, quite literally if after all they'd gone through Hermione Granger's final report is what causes them to lose the Ministry's approval.
But before she could say anything else, something- a flurry of tawny brown and black crashed through the windows of his office and landed on Hermione's lap. She untangled the letter tagged onto the old owl's legs and opened it up letter to briskly skim the contents as she stood up, "I have to go," she waved Draco off, "That will be all Mr. Malfoy, a representative from the Ministry will get back to you soon. I wish you the best in all your.. endeavours."
He watched as she made towards the wall as if she were going to walk right through it her fingers instinctively fumbling for her wand.
"Apparating to a Muggle crime scene bustling with police presence?" Draco raised an eyebrow, his inquiry carrying a subtle challenge that made her pause, momentarily taken aback by his unexpected interjection. "How do you—"
He sported a smug expression as he displayed the shiny object on his wrist—a watch, a smart one at that. The witch gaped at him, dumbstruck. "Well, having my Magic Tied allows me to use eleckt-trical-" he stumbled on the word here, "thingy's like this, without any interference. While I might not be as involved in the Wizarding World these days, I do like to keep tabs on my surroundings if only for my safety that is. And if memory serves me right, there's an ongoing murder investigation at 132 Rose Lane, the residence of a Squib named Lilliandi."
The curiosity on her face shifted into suspicion, her eyes narrowing.
"Allow me to drive you there, Ms. Granger," he offered solemnly. "At the very least, it's the least I could do to help these days."
He could almost see the cogs in her brain turn, as she evaluated his offer, the distance was too far to traverse on foot and for this Witch in particular time was of the essence. He highly suspected this was something Granger was poking her nose into and not exactly something sanctioned by the Ministry and she'd loathe to be late and miss something that the inattentive Muggle police would definitely overlook in their reports or risk a cover up given who exactly Lilliandi Flamel was.
He couldn't help but almost marvel at the fact that she was almost an open book, her expressions giving away the exact moment she decided to take him up on the offer. But not without a roll of her eyes and a defeated sigh.
Hermione Granger's surprise was unmissable as the valet to had brought his ride around and she took a look at the sleek, sophisticated vehicle awaiting them. Hermione gasped audibly before wrinkling her nose at the opulent display, "So, does your car come with its own miniature library too, Malfoy? Or is that just for show too?"
Draco arched an imperious eyebrow, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes. "You've always had a penchant for your books."
His car, a Bentley Mulsanne was magically extended on the interior beyond the front seats, complete with a sitting room and a fire place that crackled. Getting into the front seat, even she couldn't deny being impressed by the look on her face and the way she craned her neck backwards to take a better look at it.
"You're supposed to strap that buckle-" he attempted to assist her but Hermione's tone was sharp, as she secured herself in with ease, "I know what a car is." she snapped, her irritation at his constant reminders of her Muggle knowledge palpable. Every small detail served as a stark reminder that this was Hermione's world, the one she'd been born into. One that he had once belittled and bullied her for.
With that the banter seized. Draco navigated the bustling city streets with a fluid expertise that betrayed his comfort with the Muggle world. He could see her sharp gaze observing him with a mixture of wariness and curiosity but he said nothing. The drive was relatively short, but something about the Witch at his side and the conflicting thoughts in his mind made it much longer than it seemed.
Their arrival at the crime scene felt almost relieving. "Thank you for the ride, Malfoy," she stated, already on her way out. "But you need to leave now. This is official Ministry business, and I can't have you meddling around." With that and not even waiting for his response she disappeared into the throng of Muggle police officers, flashing a glamoured card that would allow them to perceive her as someone else. "Yes this way Ms. Stafford," the Constable led her, so Ms. Stafford she was.
He, however, did not leave.
Draco's watch ticked as he waited, the moments stretching into an agonizing silence that enveloped him. He found himself lingering, a faint flicker of concern etched into his features as he awaited her return. Draco was by no means a benevolent man, in fact by her own words in their fourth year he was "a smarmy opportunistic snake". Of course he'd taken that as a compliment back then being Slytherin and all. But now? Draco wasn't as sure.
A long time had passed before she emerged from the building, removing her gloves and the hair cover from the crime scene. And when she did, she seemed oblivious to his presence. It didn't surprise him. Why would Hermione Granger ever assume that Draco Malfoy waited for her to finish up?
"Granger, wait," he called out, making a move to stop her. His hand lightly brushing against her arm unexpectedly triggered a surge of power,l and before he knew it, he was hurling headfirst into the disorienting whirl of an Apparition even before he could comprehend what was happening.
The sensation was disorienting, the turbulent whirlwind dragging him from familiarity to the unknown. He closed his eyes shut feeling the familiar wrench in his belly. As the swirling vortex subsided, Draco fell to his knees, into the unfamiliar surroundings of what he soon came to learn was Hermione Granger's living room. His head spun as he tried to stand up, leaving him dazed and off-balance, so he grit his teeth, gathering every ounce of strength and sense of egoistic self preservation he had in him and hurled himself upright.
The suddenness of his predicament had him reeling. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple, his disorientation apparent in the furrow of his brow and the flicker of uncertainty in his gaze.
Amidst the confusion, he once again found himself at the mercy of the unwavering pressure of Hermione's wand against, this time- the nape of his neck. It sent a chill down his spine. But this time felt more serious, almost like she meant it, unlike with yesterday. It was a silent threat poised mere inches away, compelling him to remain motionless. She was no ordinary Witch, One could easily mistake Hermione Granger to be some fragile, frail thing with only brains and lacking braun, hiding behind Potter, but if anything Draco knew about her was true, those people were dead wrong. If Granger wanted him dead, he better be prepared to fight for his life.
"This was a mistake," he held his hands up in a surrender, his voice laced with a mixture of apology and unease. "I didn't expect you to.. to Apparate like that."
Hermione's grip on her wand didn't falter, her resolve unyielding as she maintained a firm hold. The air between them crackled with magic and all the spells Granger had undoubtedly weaved for protection and what not around her house. The knowledge of the fact that he now stood in her living room lingering like an unspoken specter.
"I will leave," he uttered, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation. "I will leave now." His attempt at a hasty escape, however, was met with an unforeseen revelation. Something had gone awry, terribly awry, with his Apparition, and the consequences were instantaneous and confounding.
*
In the depths of her living space, Hermione could only hear a string of colorful expletives emanating from the confines of the basement. The muffled curses uttered in colorful language, echoed through her walls. She couldn't help but smile to herself, which then turned into a giggle with her steps deliberately lazy and measured as she descended the stairs.
Crookshanks greeted her at the bottom, his ginger fur ruffling against her touch as she crouched down to fuss over the affectionate feline. Malfoy's predicament, while not entirely amusing, had a certain irony to it. He was bound by the very fabric of mundane linen sheets- and they felt coarse on his skin definitely not a comparison with his thousand thread count sheets, his limbs ensnared in a makeshift web that rendered him incapacitated and trapped against the wall of her basement's laundry room. Her Protection Charms let him through as he Apparated in with her, but it was rather stupid of him to think he could simply Apparate out. Almost insulting. Of course, she'd have protection charms put around her abode.
"You're clever, Malfoy," Hermione teased, the situation much too funny to warrant a rude reprimand, "You'll figure out a way to get out of this." And as if to iterate her saying, Crookshanks mewed as he walked to Draco nuzzling against his feet as he stared at the cat uncomfortably half expecting it to turn into a Gorgon that'd devour him. The cat, however, seemed entirely unperturbed as he settled down comfortably stretching himself, content in the company of the disgruntled wizard who now found himself at the mercy of Hermione's makeshift prison.
In the meantime she turned heel, simply going back upstairs as she pulled out her desk, getting started as she waited.
It wasn't long before Draco Malfoy stood by the entrance of Hermione's living room, his eyes roving all over as he took it all in attempting to compose himself. He found her busy at her desk, her attention focused on the bright screens of her computers. Hermione's living space exuded a sense of coziness that felt alien to his refined taste, yet the absence of the ostentatious displays that once graced the pages of Witch Weekly as a tour through the Weasley's marital residence surprised him.
"The door's that way, Malfoy," Hermione's voice sliced through the silence, her tone devoid of any warmth. He was taken aback by the sharpness in her words.
Draco hesitated, as she noted his gaze on her linger as he shifted on his feet. He hadn't left yet.
"Aren't you going to ask me what I wanted to tell you?" he blurted out, a hint of urgency tinged his words.
Her response was as curt as ever.
"No."
The single word hung in the air, a barrier that seemed insurmountable, an echo of the complexities that drove them worlds apart. Him a disgraced Pure-Blood Heir banished off Wizarding Society, and her a hugely decorated War Hero. But not to him, to Draco Malfoy she would always be a Mudblood.
She noticed his gaze curiously flit around her living room. "Not a trace of what Witch Weekly deemed the wedding of the century," a flicker of his trademark wit seeped back into his words.
"I'm flattered you kept up with the gossip," she said, "but I have visitors arriving soon, and the door-" Hermione's gaze met his, and Draco was caught off guard by the cool indifference that reflected in her eyes.
"-is that way."
"I owe you an apology," he deadpanned instead, ignoring her dismissive stance.
Hermione Granger blinked. She felt her universe teeter, then freeze abruptly at those words, only a searing ache in her arm jolting her back to the stark present. She closed the space between them, facing the figure before her— the boy who had been a silent witness to the cruel marks carved into her flesh. The words his Aunt had etched into her very soul. But the boy she'd known then had now transformed into a man, and the tangled threads of their turbulent history loomed between them. He was just a boy, she told herself again. He was just a boy.
Her arm throbbed in relentless agony, a relentless drumbeat, the pain pulsating through her veins, an unyielding reminder of the wounds that refused to heal. Crimson droplets seeped through her pristine blouse, a vivid contrast mirroring the storm raging within her. Draco Malfoy's widened eyes locked onto the stain, his features a canvas of alarm and recognition painted by the scene unraveling before him.
"It bleeds when I think about it," she spoke with steely composure, an undertone of indifference belying the torment beneath. As her confession weighed heavily in the air, she stood firm, despite her arm throbbing—a painful memento of his aunt's vicious actions. His gaze, fixated on the fresh blood, betrayed his unease, rendering him momentarily unsettled. Satisfied with his discomfort, she turned away, lowering her sleeve. Despite the years passed and the semblance of healing, the scars remained indelibly etched within.
With Draco Malfoy before her, a living specter of her sufferings, her sacrifices, her past- she couldn't help but sense a pang of empathy witnessing his faintly abashed countenance. He was just a boy, she told herself again.
"So I suggest you never bring this up again and leave, Malfoy," she declared, her voice a fortress of resolution. The charged air hummed with her warning, an unspoken vow that if he lingered, she'd make him regret it. "Leave before I make you regret ever laying eyes on me again."
*
A/N: Thank you very much for the follows and favourites so far! I honestly was well prepared to be writing only for myself least for a couple chapters, but the follows are absolutely encouraging and I am so grateful to everyone who did!
Next chapter is going to delve into the darker bits of the story so I'd say be prepared! And we'll be seeing some of our favourite HP characters make an appearance, so make sure to follow if you're new here! :)
And again thanks a ton for your time! If you did enjoying reading this chapter please consider leaving a review, I'd love to hear your thoughts, opinions and theories. Much love! NF