Note: Hi! At the risk of sounding repetitive, this is a note for readers who read the earlier chapter the day this story was published. I have added to that chapter today, so you can check it our before continuing here. As I mapped out future chapters, I realized it needed to be fleshed out.
Thanks, and please leave reviews!
Wand at the ready, Hermione shuffled backward, keeping both Malfoy and her unknown attacker in her periphery.
To say Malfoy looked angry would be an understatement. His mouth was pressed in a thin line, and his eyes held a deadly intensity, as if consumed by thoughts of vengeance. But it wasn't for Hermione; he seemed lost in his own world, somewhere far away.
"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" she said, voice steeped in tension.
"It looked like saving your ungrateful arse, Granger," Malfoy retorted, his tone sharp.
"I was doing just fine myself," she retorted, the dagger glinting in the light.
His eyes followed her movement, acknowledging her with a slight tilt of his head. "Very well, Granger. Though we both know you couldn't physically overpower him."
Without waiting for her reply, he advanced towards the attacker. Casting a Petrificus Totalus, he turned the assailant around. She didn't recognize him, but judging from the string of curses from Malfoy's mouth, he surely did. "Caspar Crouch," he said by way of explanation. "Crouch Jr.'s cousin."
"Oh, Merlin! I thought the Crouch family was wiped out. They are part of the Sacred 28, aren't they?" Hermione exclaimed.
Malfoy didn't answer her immediately. Instead, he handed her his wand. "Yes, the Sacred 28," he mused. "Though their Wizengamot seat has been unclaimed since the war," he added carefully and thoughtfully.
He maintained his gaze on her as he sent a message to someone. Hermione doubled down on her Occlumency, feeling weird under his assessment. If he noticed it, he didn't say anything.
"The guards will be here in a minute, Granger. I hope you'll make sure he is arrested," he said, then turned to walk away.
Hermione didn't call after him.
The guards arrived with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley in tow.
"What happened, Hermione?" Ron enveloped her in a tight hug, while Harry rushed to Caspar.
"He attempted to kidnap me. I was just about to try to escape when Malfoy disarmed him," Hermione explained, her voice still shaky from the encounter.
"Kidnap?" Ron's brows furrowed as he turned to Harry. "Does he have anything on him?"
Harry rummaged through Caspar's belongings, pulling out a wallet and a flask. "Firewhiskey," he confirmed with a sniff.
"I have his wand," Hermione added, handing it over to Harry.
"We'll take him into custody. Are you alright?" Harry's concern was palpable.
"Yes, he didn't harm me," Hermione assured them, though her nerves still buzzed with adrenaline.
"Did he mention anything?" Harry inquired, rubbing his forehead—a habit from their days in the war.
"From what he said, it seems like a case of plain revenge to me. He was bitter about the spoiled reputation of his family," Hermione recounted.
Ron exchanged a worried glance with Hermione. "Are you sure you're okay?"
Hermione managed a nod, though her mind was still reeling. "I'll be fine, Ron. Let's just get this sorted out."
Harry sighed, pocketing the wand. "We'll have to interrogate him properly. Would you like to stay or go home?"
"I will retire for today. I can give over my memory of today if needed for the interrogation."
"Sure, will let you know. Take care," he said, kissing her on the cheek.
"Good night, Hermione. Ensure all your wards are enabled today, alright?" Ron advised.
"Yes, Ron. Good night."
As Hermione flood home, she felt a lingering unease settle within her. The encounter with Caspar Crouch had rattled her more than she cared to admit. Arriving at her cottage, she closed the floo connection behind her and reinforced the protective wards around her home. Yet, despite her efforts to shake off the tension, she found herself unable to relax. Stripping off her gala attire, she made her way to the bedroom and took out her emergency only stash of Dreamless Sleep. With the potion coursing through her veins, she finally succumbed to sleep.
Hermione woke up at 11:30 the next morning as the potion's effects faded. But her mind was still tangled with yesterday's events, replaying them over and over again without relief.
Freshening up, she brewed herself a cup of vanilla coffee and made her way towards the study. Her mind churned with thoughts as she sipped on her coffee, the bitter taste doing little to ease her restless thoughts. Determined to make sense of the events from the previous day, she wasted no time in organizing her schedule. A meeting with Malfoy was a necessary step, not only to discuss her muggle-born education project but also to glean insights into his own initiatives. With a few swift taps on her calendar, she penciled in a meeting for 4 pm on Monday. Additionally, she blocked her morning and added a note for her assistant Charlie to gather files on Malfoy's team's current and previous projects, as well as any relevant bills in the Wizengamot.
With the day's concerns set aside for a moment, Hermione began her preparations for her bi-weekly leisurely lunch with Harry and Ron, a tradition that had grown to include Ginny and Lavender since their marriage. It was a surprise to her younger self that she'd come to enjoy cooking, let alone become skilled at it. But as necessity and disappointing takeout meals nudged her into the kitchen, she discovered unexpected parallels with potion-making. Both required a keen grasp of proportions, timing, and patience. Today, she settled on a creamy broccoli soup and her signature pita pizza loaded with veggies and chicken. Selections with good nutrition had become her go-to choices lately, catering to Lavender's cravings and persistent weakness during her pregnancy.
As the pizza baked in the oven, she uncorked a bottle of wine and opted to change into a light summer dress to combat the unbearable heat. The sustained temperature charm on her cottage was a godsend, especially on scorching days like today. Living at the edge of a wizarding settlement that was closes to her childhood home, she had the best of both worlds: Wizarding and Muggle. Her parents memories were restored and she often popped in for a quick hello or to bring over new recipes she had perfected. Her parents were seeing Healer Eustace Burke once a month, to monitor their progress and they were at ease knowing that Hermione lived close enough to be reachable by their car.
Her floo flared as Harry and Ginny appeared in her living room. "Is it time already?" she exclaimed.
Gin rushed over to her. "How did you sleep, honey? Harry told me what happened yesterday."
Hermione debated lying about it, but she knew better than to pull one over Ginny Potter. "I took a Dreamless Sleep."
Harry, aware of her attempts to navigate her nightmares without potions, comforted her. "It's all right, 'Mione. It took us all by surprise. We are looking into the security breach."
"Thanks, Harry. Anything on Crouch?"
"It was as you mentioned. He is in custody, and we can officially file charges on your behalf on Monday. There may be a small trial, and he'll be shipped off to Azkaban by Wednesday," he explained just as Ron and Lavender appeared.
Ron quickly crossed the room to her, enveloping her in a tight hug. Lavender followed closely behind, concern etched on her face. "How are you feeling, Hermione?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine care.
Hermione managed a small smile. "I'm okay, Lavender. Thanks for asking."
Ron nodded in agreement. "We're just glad you're safe, 'Mione. And we'll make sure this doesn't happen again."
Ginny, ever the practical one, interjected. "Well, let's not dwell on it too much now. We're here for lunch and some quality time together, remember?"
As usual, Ron was the first one of the group to rush to her open kitchen and dining island. "Ronald Weasley, you just had a snack at home," scolded Lavender, her tone a perfect imitation of Molly. The rest of them couldn't help but laugh at the comforting routine.
Monday morning couldn't have come sooner for Hermione, as she worked through Sunday to have finalize her proposal for any gaps before her meeting with Malfoy today.
Stepping into her office on the second floor of the Ministry, she noticed a stack of case files neatly arranged on her desk. "Thanks, Charlie," she called out to her assistant stationed outside the office. With everything in place to start her morning – case files, a cup of coffee – and no meetings scheduled until 11, Hermione felt ready to tackle the day ahead.
Promptly at 10:50, her ministry issued calendar chimed signalling her meeting with the Aurors looking into her case. Hermione made way to the conference room where Harry had informed they will be waiting.
"She's here," announced Clarisse, a junior Auror in Harry's team, as Hermione entered the room.
"Mione, we were just waiting for you," Harry said, tension evident in his voice.
"What happened?" Hermione inquired, her brow furrowed in concern.
"As of this morning, he was just asking for a pardon. But now, Clarisse says he requested to talk to you."
"What for?"
"Refuses to specify." He answered. "Now I can try to get this sorted without your intervention, or you can hear him out. I will accompany you, he's in the interrogation room." Harry gave her the choice
"Let's do it then," Hermione decided, her curiosity piqued by the sudden change in Crouch's demeanor. She followed Harry to the interrogation room, her mind racing with questions about what could have prompted this unexpected request for a conversation.
Upon seeing her, Crouch's lip curled with disgust. Harry started the conversation, warning him to be careful with what he says. Hermione sat down, her gaze unwavering. She had grown accustomed to this power move that some of the purebloods liked to employ. It was a game of patience, and she had plenty.
"I want to make a deal with you," he stated, his tone oozing with arrogance.
With a measured silence, Hermione allowed him to continue.
"Name your price, so that you don't press charges," he pressed.
"So you thought you'd buy your way out of attempting to kidnap. And then what? Be allowed to roam free?" Hermione's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension in the room.
"Look, I am in no mood for games. They cannot press charges on me without your witness, and Malfoy has already confirmed he won't say if you don't when he suggested I negotiate," Crouch retorted, his frustration seeping through his words.
"Malfoy suggested this?" her eyebrows shot up in surprise, her mind racing with implications.
"Obviously, he wouldn't want to betray a Sacred 28 over someone like you," Crouch said with disdain, his gaze lingering on her with disdain, as if she were a mere nuisance to his perfect morning.
Hermione's jaw clenched at the insult, but she remained composed. Turning to Harry, Hermione took a moment to collect her thoughts. "Can I get back to you on this, Harry? There is something I need to do first." Harry was surprised, but he acquiesced. "Take your time, Hermione. Let me know by evening." Knowing her like Harry did, her choice should have been obvious. It was, even to her. But her mind was also churning with possibilities, hearing that Malfoy had a hand in this. She had a theory from her morning read, and if this was her chance to glean his true motives, she was going take it before she sent Crouch on his way to Azkaban.
She exited the interrogation room, the heavy door closing behind her with a resounding thud.
Malfoy's office was just around the corner from hers, and in the short time it took her to reach, she knew her hair had probably expanded from the rage, judging by the way people were clearing their path for her. His assistant, a petite witch who seemed just out of Hogwarts, intercepted her.
"Your meeting isn't for a few hours, Ms. Granger," she pointed out.
"Is he otherwise occupied? Even if he is, this is urgent. I am walking in and would appreciate if you could get us a few minutes," Hermione replied, her tone firm and determined.
Entering his office, she saw him sitting impeccably in his chair, his office just as pristine. It was a testament to her frustration that even his dark green well fitted suit did nothing to give her pause.
She closed the door behind her and cast a Muffliato charm, glaring down at him as he remained seated
"This eager to see me, Granger?" though he didn't seem surprised at all
"Don't play games, Malfoy. You know exactly what I'm talking about. You orchestrated this somehow, didn't you?"
Malfoy's expression remained unreadable, his features carefully schooled into a mask of indifference. "Orchestrated what, precisely?"
"Don't feign innocence with me," Hermione snapped, her voice edged with frustration. "You encouraged Crouch's request, might have even planted the idea. What's your angle here?"
Malfoy leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "And what angle would that be, Granger? You seem to have quite the imagination."
"Cut the act," Hermione retorted, stepping closer to his desk. "You saved me yesterday without knowing it was me, and now you're trying to save yourself from the guilt of betraying one of your own."
Malfoy's smirk faltered for a moment before returning in full force. "Betrayal implies a level of loyalty I reserve for very few," he replied coolly.
"You know what I mean," Hermione pressed on, her voice low and intense. "He's one of your own. A desperate group of Pureblood Sacred 28 elitists grasping at what they've lost"
"One of mine Granger? Nobody touches a hair of what's mine and he certainly wouldn't be here in that case" he replied smoothly, eyes blazing like it's a promise. The intensity surprised her enough to falter for a few seconds and notice just how close they really were. Somewhere between words, he had gotten up and was towering over her. Malfoy noticed this, but his eyes burned with a mixture of defiance and calculation, daring Hermione to challenge him further.
"You're playing both sides, just like with the inheritance bill for pureblood women." She accused
"One might call it feminism, Granger," Malfoy countered, dripping sarcasm. "One would think you, of all people, would be on that bandwagon."
"Or are you trying to keep it within the Purebloods? The wealth, the status. With this law, the women, especially Pureblood women, would be able to claim a lot of the prominent seats, wouldn't they?" Hermione shot back, her voice laced with disdain, her stance unyielding as she faced off against Malfoy. The room felt like a battlefield. She decided to drive the final nail. "You want to maintain your power and privilege, even if it means trampling over others." her voice dripping with contempt.
Malfoy's smirk returned, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Ah, the righteous crusade of Hermione Granger. Always fighting for what's right, even if it means stepping on a few toes along the way. So paranoid, Granger"
"You know nothing about me," Hermione spat, her fists clenched at her sides. "But I know enough about you to see through your facade."
"Is that so?" Malfoy's tone was taunting, his arrogance palpable. "And what, pray tell, do you see, Granger?"
"I see a man consumed by his own ambition, willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to satisfy his desires," Hermione declared, her voice trembling with anger. "But mark my words, Malfoy, your games won't fool me for long. I'll uncover the truth, no matter how deep you bury it."
He stared at her with contemplation. Hermione expected him to refute her damning accusations or offer some excuse, but instead, he seemed to be studying her with a level of interest she found unsettling. "Why are you here, Granger?" he asked finally, cutting through the tension with his sharp tone.
"Malfoy," she retorted sharply, refusing to let him deflect.
"I mean, why did you join the Magical Law Office?" he continued, ignoring her frustration.
"Don't try to evade" Hermione snapped, her patience wearing thin.
"Just answer the bloody question, woman. Must you always be so difficult?" Malfoy's tone was exasperated, but there was a hint of resignation in his voice as he met Hermione's fiery gaze.
At Hermione's burning glare, he sighed, seeming to relent. "I am assuming you couldn't do enough at the DRCMC and decided to get closer to the centre of it, work right at the core of our structure: the wizarding law." His words held a touch of sarcasm, but there was also a glimmer of something else beneath his cool facade.
"Crouch's desperation is an opportunity," he continued, his tone measured.
"An opportunity to give him another chance," she retorted bitterly. "Maybe next time he'll attempt murder," she mocked.
"I can't believe the Brightest Witch of Our Age can be this daft! If your ambitions are what I think they are, you really need to see and play the long game," Malfoy countered sharply.
At her silence, he continued, his voice dropping to a persuasive tone. "You can strip him of his Wizengamot seat and take it for yourself," he finally declared, his eyes gleaming
Hermione realized two things at once. First, this was not the same Malfoy from their Hogwarts years—the scared boy whose decisions were dictated by fear. This was the version of Malfoy who knew how to play the game, likely the result of Lucius's careful grooming. Second, he was more than just an opportunist. He exuded an aura of confidence and intelligence that was undeniably attractive. What she chose to focus on, however, was that he was ten steps ahead, having turned a mistake into an opportunity.
She was relieved when he returned to his seat, the ensuing silence giving her a moment to gather her thoughts. Taking a seat herself, she did so only as a cover to collect her scattered thoughts.
"You want me to negotiate his release for his seat?" she asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.
"Yes, darling," Hermione couldn't help but feel a surge of irritation; even as a child, she had always detested being spoken to in such a patronizing manner. Yet, the term "darling" rolled off his tongue as smoothly as the finest smelling lotion.
"He holds the blood purity views, Malfoy. I'm sure he would likely go on to Azkaban for this," she retorted, her voice laced with skepticism.
"Not if you play it right. If he wanted to get into politics or wanted power, he could have claimed his seat. But he didn't. Your only hurdle is getting him to give a Muggle-born his seat, and right now he's desperate," Malfoy explained, his tone cool and calculating.
Hermione's mind raced, each thought galloping faster than the swiftest horse in existence. Crouch was likely unmotivated and ambitionless in the face of his family's downfall. It seemed he didn't have the confidence or the capability to restore it for himself, make a name. The only thing he had was his freedom and the money.
She couldn't believe she was considering this. As if Malfoy could read her thoughts, he spoke up. "Realize the importance, Granger. Let him go, and he will elect you as his Representative for the rest of his life, or until you deem his debt fully paid. This will get you the 'in' you are looking for. Power to introduce bills directly to the Wizengamot."
As if his job was done, Malfoy went back to leaning in his chair and observing her reservedly.
"What do you want, Malfoy? You don't expect me to believe you're doing this out of the goodness of your heart?" Hermione challenged.
He grinned. "You wound me, sweetheart. I don't want anything right now, just getting my new colleague a stake in this game we play."
"Surely you don't expect me to believe that?"
"Believe what you will, Granger. I don't care."
Letting it drop for now, Hermione rose from her chair. "Don't think I forgot the conversation we were having, Malfoy. I will find out what you're up to."
He smiled. "Maybe you will. Accompany me to a gathering happening tomorrow?"
Her surprise was evident. "What? Accompany? As in professionally?"
"Granger, you know you can call it a date if you wanted. I am amenable either way. I won't stray, I promise," he teased.
"What gathering are we talking about?" She decided to ignore him, after all, it was the best tactic when you went speechless, wasn't it?
"All the important families to our profession would be there. You will have your chance for a soft launch, as they call it. Test out the sentiment for your, no doubt, bleeding-heart projects."
"And why are you helping me do that?"
"I suggest you see a mind healer, Granger. We just discussed this."
Eyeing him, she decided it would be worth it. And she would glean more of his intentions only if she attended. So she agreed.
"Great, I will share the location. You can meet me at the apparition point at 6." He said dismissively. "Oh and dress nice, Granger."