"Miss Granger, are you Imperiused?"
"Do you have anything to say about your upcoming marriage contract to Miss Arsenau?"
"When can we expect an announcement about your resignation?"
Questions were hurled at them from every direction as they dipped and weaved through the Ministry Atrium. Hermione hadn't expected to see the sheer number of reporters that greeted them and for the first time, she wondered if perhaps she had underestimated the intensity with which the story tore through the wizarding world. She gripped Draco's hand like a vice as they cantered through the throngs of people toward the lifts, many of whom were looking at them with distaste.
"Still think coming into work today was a good idea," he whispered gruffly in her ear as one particularly vocal reporter yelled, "Have you no shame!" at their backs.
Hermione dashed forward undeterred as they rounded the corner and entered the nearest open lift. Breathing a deep sigh, the door closed behind them and the lift jerked into motion. As she stepped away from Draco to gather her bearings, she realized they weren't alone.
"Is it safe to assume we are off for Friday night then?" Cormac asked blandly, a hint of annoyance in his voice.
Hermione stuttered, trying to focus. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Dinner. Friday night. Or have you forgotten?" He looked over at Draco with a sour expression on his face which was returned with equal loathing.
"Oh, right," she stammered. "No, of course, I haven't forgotten."
With the added distraction of her frenzied existence with Malfoy, she had indeed forgotten that Cormac had cornered her in the break room what seemed like a lifetime ago and asked her out for dinner. And what resembled at the time a moderately endurable idea, she now viewed as an oppressive strain on her otherwise catastrophe of a life.
She peered up at the two men and bristled at the stark contrast between the two. Malfoy in his impeccably tailored suit and dragonhide shoes looked the portrait of a dignified aristocrat against Cormac, who although arguably handsome in his own right, was far less put together. His chaotic blond curls fell in loose ringlets on his forehead, unpressed work shirt opened three buttons down from his neck revealing more of his chest than was strictly appropriate for a respectable workplace.
It was an oxymoron of sorts to find herself faced with this complex arrangement, so she did what her rational brain told her to do.
"Come by my flat at six o'clock. You pick the place," she said, watching the elevator with rapt attention and sighing in relief when it came to a stop at their floor.
Cormac's strained expression morphed into a triumphant smirk as he assessed Malfoy who was leaning smugly against the wall, arms crossed in self-assured aloofness.
She glanced back at him hesitantly as she exited, watching as Draco flashed Cormac a deathly glare before stepping out into the vestibule behind her. Hermione offered Cormac a conciliatory smile before hastening after Malfoy toward their shared office.
When the door clicked into place and all pretenses had evaporated into thin air, he couldn't stop his features from twisting into a pained grimace.
"You can't go out with him," he said with forced patience as she shuffled across the room to her desk, seemingly unaffected by the terse encounter with McLaggen. He followed closely behind, long strides easily keeping time with hers.
"And exactly why not?" she asked rounding the corner and dropping into her seat.
He looked down his nose at her with something vaguely resembling displeasure and said with a practiced calm she knew to be a result of his aristocratic upbringing, "Because you can't. You said- well, we decided- we never talked about-"
Hermione's eyebrows knitted together as she took in the very bizarre display of Malfoy struggling to speak. "We're perfectly at liberty to resume our private lives, are we not? I mean, this distorted narrative of Rita's shouldn't hinder either of us from dating, should it?"
She wasn't entirely sure the plan with Cormac on Friday night constituted a date, but short of saying 'have dinner with a coworker' which would sound wholly lame given the circumstances, she went with the word that covered all the bases.
Draco stammered as his arms mimicked the frantic display. "Of course, we are more than free to continue to date," he said as if that were glaringly obvious. "However, I think you'll agree that going out to dinner with Cormac is problematic given the current situation. How would that look for you to be seen with another wizard on your arm not even a week after snogging me?"
Hermione choked on her breath as she seemed to consider his point, before discreetly clearing her throat and finally adding, "You're right. That wouldn't look good at all."
He sighed in relief, pleased he'd gotten through to her. "Good, now that that's settled." He turned and moved to swagger over to his desk, making it only three paces before she cut in.
"We'll stay in then."
Draco arrested his movement, swiveling to face her. "I'm sorry, what?"
"We'll stay in," she clarified. "Cormac and me. We'll have dinner in so there won't be any risk of being seen."
Draco felt a nettlesome agitation crawl up his neck. He took a measured breath, exhaling with stolid control through his rankled nostrils. "That's a brilliant idea. Apart from the fact that he's a sod who's completely beneath you in both talent and intelligence."
He turned back to continue his harrassed flight over to his desk, sinking into his chair and taking out the tome from his father while affecting to search its contents.
Hermione stood up and marched over, pausing to cross her arms as she glared down at him. "Wait just a minute. I'm confused. Are you opposed to me going out with Cormac because it won't look good in the press or because he's beneath me?"
He didn't look up from his feigned voracious reading. "Do what you want, Granger. It makes no difference to me."
Her hands moved to her hips. "Fine, I will," she said before pivoting and marching brazenly back to her desk.
They sat at their respective workspaces in resolute silence for the better part of an hour before Hermione gathered up her belongings and informed Malfoy she was heading to Kingsley's office. He hadn't even bothered to acknowledge her departure, head still staring at the exact same page he had been since their little dispute.
By the time she had returned, Malfoy was no longer at his desk so Hermione sent a missive to Harry to meet her in her office as soon as time permitted. She wondered briefly where Malfoy had gotten off to, but given the mounting pile of work awaiting her, she didn't have time to dwell on it.
It wasn't long before she heard a tap on the door and Harry peered inside with a hesitant look on his face.
Hermione sighed. "It's fine, Harry. Come in."
He shuffled over and dropped into the chair across from her, a pained grimace pinching his face. "So, how bad is it?" he asked, nervously fidgeting with the arm of the chair.
Sheepish discomfort marred her features. "Things most certainly have been better." Seeing his face scrunch up in revulsion, she added, "I know what you're thinking, Harry. And I assure you, it's not what it looks like."
"Hermione, it's Malfoy. I mean- I think it was Malfoy. I couldn't really tell to be honest, what with your mouth effectively consuming his." He physically gagged at the rather vivid recollection.
Hermione dropped her head into her hand. "I know, Harry. It looked bad. But-"
"I thought when I got Malfoy the Portkey for France that it was for Ministry business." He shook his head. "That's what he told me anyway, the lying sod. I should have known he'd try something."
"No, Harry, it's not like that. We were there on Ministry business. That part is true. It's just- we were also there to address some family affairs of Malfoy's and while I can't exactly tell you everything, I can tell you he didn't try anything with me. I was very much a willing participant." Her voice trailed off as she managed the regrettable admission.
His eyes widened the size of paper plates. "A willing participant? Hermione- gods, please don't tell me you fancy Malfoy because I will need more firewhisky than exists in all the stockpiles in Britain coursing through my veins before we ever have that conversation."
Hermione flushed crimson as she laughed away her discomfort. "Just trust me, Harry- and know, I have everything under control even though it may not exactly look like it at the current moment. And-" She narrowed her eyes at him imploringly. "Please tell Ron everything we discussed here- including the fact that I'm not Imperiused- because I know he will be in hot pursuit to Avada Malfoy if he thinks he's done anything to harm me."
Harry nodded his head in solidarity. "I'll do what I can, but you know Ron. He's already counting down the minutes until Malfoy returns so he can come in here and say his piece."
Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. "Then, I'll be sure to be here so I can intercede. Have you any idea where he's gone off to? Malfoy, that is," she asked, feigning indifference.
Harry shook his head. "No, haven't seen him all morning. Have you?"
Her eyes cast downward. "He was here when I left to go talk to Kingsley, but when I returned, he was gone."
"Hmmm. And how did things go with the Minister?"
"Better than expected, I suppose." She sighed resignedly. "I essentially told him what I told you." When he raised his brows with interest she added, "He trusts my judgment. And given the fact that Malfoy isn't officially DMLE payroll, it didn't break any Ministry rules about interdepartmental relationships- so, he's calling off the dragons down at the Wizengamot. Said he'd handle the media firestorm over at the Prophet as well. I guess that's more than what I could have hoped for given the circumstances."
He surveyed her before responding. "I sure wish I knew the backstory on this one so I could help you. Why don't you come over to Grimmauld on Friday night- have dinner with Ginny and me. We'll sort through it all."
"I'm having dinner with Cormac on Friday."
"McLaggen?"
Hermione's mouth curled into a lopsided grin. "Do you know any other Cormac?"
"Gods, you've been busy since I last saw you."
She exhaled a peal of laughter. "Trust me, it's nothing. Dinner in is all."
"Why in? Surely Hermione Granger is worth a dinner out." He studied her dispirited reaction as he awaited her answer.
"Oh, Harry- it's complicated. And I promise I will tell you the first chance I get."
He brushed his palms together. "Well, I'll be waiting. In the meantime, perhaps you'd like to hear the latest on the case." With her solemn nod, he continued, "MacNair and his cohort left MacNair Manor and are headed to Egypt."
Hermoine chuckled remembering his cryptic Patronus. "Yes, Harry- we'd gathered as much from your urgent message."
"What? I didn't want anyone to decipher it were it to be overheard."
"I assure you, no one overheard you riddling like a sphinx." She rolled her eyes. "So, is that all? They've left the country?"
"Yes, so far. I actually have a Floo call with the Egyptian Minister this morning." He checked his watch. "Momentarily, in fact, so I should be running along. He's supposed to have the latest on their whereabouts. Malfoy wrote to him- it was actually pretty brilliant- he asked the Minister to notify us should either of them turn up there. He must have had a feeling. Did he not tell you?"
Her face went blank. "No, he didn't tell me."
"Well, I'm sure he planned to. Anyhow," he rose from his seat brushing off his dress robes, "I can let you know if I learn anything new from the Minister."
Hermione stood to accompany him to the doorway.
"Oh, and Hermione-" he turned as he rounded the corner into the corridor, "do get some rest. You look like you're positively knackered."
"Gee, thanks." She chuckled as she shoed him on his way, covertly looking up and down the hallway for any sign of Malfoy, but seeing none, she returned to her office and closed the door.
Hours passed with no sign of the temperamental wizard, causing Hermione to think that perhaps he had been avoiding her. It seemed out of character that he'd leave work over the petty row they'd had that morning given that they'd had far worse altercations before. But they also didn't have the added baggage of a snogging glaring them in the face. It was probably all for the better that he was gone, anyways- that way Hermione could work in relative peace without the added tension of his presence.
The tranquility of her workspace didn't endure, however, as just past the lunch hour, Ginny came scrambling through her door without so much as a knock.
"You sly little minx," she gushed, flinging the door closed and leaning against it.
Hermione's face flushed, realizing she was on the precipice of a severe reckoning from her meddlesome friend.
"Holy shite, Hermione- it's a media circus out there with all the blathering about the wizarding world's newest couple! No wonder why you're hiding out in here!"
"I'm not hiding," she said smoothly, placing her cool hands against her cheeks to smother the scorching heat radiating off them. "I actually have work to do."
Ginny practically sprinted over to take a seat across from her. "I don't believe you. No one could accomplish any work after a night like that! Gods- I'm dying to know, what was it like? Was it as carnal as it looked?" She wagged her eyebrows. Seeing her friend's face turning a deep shade of purple, she covered her mouth and squealed. "Holy shite! It was! You better start talking because I'm not above using truth serum to get the juicy tidbits out of you!"
Hermione sheepishly bit her lip. "Sorry to say, there's not a whole lot to tell. Apart from the fact that it ended up being a rather unexpected part of the job requirement."
Ginny snorted in disbelief. "Job requirement my arse! Did you not see the way he kissed you? Gods, I only wish Harry would snog me like that! That was not the act of an amateur performer- he wants you- I'm telling you, he wants you bad!"
Hermione dipped her head, shaking it back and forth to see if she could return it to some version of any color but the glaring red that was now staining her cheeks. "That is the farthest thing from the truth, Ginny. We already talked about it and believe me, Malfoy was more than eager to tell me how much he regretted it."
Ginny's brows knitted into a frown of confusion. "What? He regretted it like how?"
"Like in the way that you do when you wish it had never happened."
"That is a load of shite," she said, leaning forward defensively to the very edge of her seat. "I know what I saw- and that was not a man who had an ounce of regret in his body. In fact, I'd say his body was ready to climb on y-"
"Ginny, please. Save it for when I do find somebody who is that enthusiastic. This thing with Malfoy- I already told you- it was a ploy to get him out of his marriage contract. And by all accounts, I think it may have worked. So apart from dealing with this dastardly media circus, once it all dies down, we can put this nightmare behind us. Until then, life goes on as usual. In fact, I'm having dinner with Cormac this Friday night."
"McLaggen?" Her brows flew up into her hairline.
Hermione laughed. "That's exactly what Harry said. And yes, McLaggen. What other Cormac do you know?"
Ginny shook her head, disbelieving. "I mean, it's just surprising is all. I thought that little phase was long behind you. Didn't you take him to one of Slughorn's parties or something?"
"Yes- but he's grown up a lot since Hogwarts. Besides, we're having dinner as friends."
"Ok, Hermione," she said with undisguised sarcasm. "Since you seem content to delude yourself into thinking that neither of these wizards is interested in you, I'm dying to know- does Malfoy know about your little non-date?"
"Well, yes- but, why do you ask?"
"And what does he think about it?
"I'm not sure I follow. What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean. How did he react when he discovered you were going out with Cormac?"
"Well, first of all, we're not going out. We're staying in." When Ginny scrunched up her face in confusion, she clarified, "The media circus."
Ginny nodded in understanding so she continued.
"And second of all, it's really not any of his business who I choose to spend my time with."
"Right. That's not what I asked. How did he react when he found out you have plans with Cormac?" she pressed not allowing Hermione a solitary centimeter to skirt the issue.
"I mean, he wasn't entirely thrilled with the idea- but that was mainly because I don't think he likes Cormac very much."
Ginny snorted. "I knew it."
"What do you know?"
"He doesn't want you to go. Or rather stay-in with him. He's jealous."
"And you picked that up from this conversation, how?"
"Just trust me. I know men. And if he didn't care, he wouldn't have said anything. Where is Malfoy by the way? Shouldn't he be here?"
"He left shortly after we got here this morning," she said impassively.
"We?" Ginny asked, eyes wide with interest as she perked up in her seat.
"Ugh. Don't look into it. We just followed each other over here after he came by to tell me about the Prophet article."
"Well, that was awfully chivalrous of him."
Hermione fixed her with an admonishing glare.
"What? I'm just saying! It was nice that he wanted to be there when you found out what that swine Rita Skeeter printed about you two!" When she saw her friend's face slacken, she added, "So, where is he now?"
Hermione shrugged with indifference. "I've no idea. We had a bit of a row and I've not seen him since."
"A row about what?"
Hermione's face flushed again as she shifted in her seat. "I already told you. He didn't exactly approve of my going out- or in- with Cormac."
"You most certainly did not tell me you had a row about that!" she exploded. "So he argues with you about Cormac and then disappears for the rest of the day! Gods, Hermione, you can't be that daft!"
"I'm sure he had an entirely valid reason for leaving that had nothing to do with my social agenda." She shoved a lock of hair away from her face.
Ginny looked aghast at her complete and total lack of self-awareness. "Ok, you keep telling yourself that." She popped up from her seat before turning to leave. "Well, you know where to find me when you discover I'm right. I never tire of saying 'I told you so!"
She shimmied out of Hermione's office, humming something that sounded vaguely like 'Falling for You,' by Celestina Warbeck.
