The Inspectorate for Elfish Labour Conditions [Dramione]

10 | New Year

Music: Harry And Hermione, Nicholas Hooper (Harry Potter And The Half-Blood Prince)

                           The Ministry of Magic was a quiet place between Christmas and New Year. Most of the employees had taken the week off, and that meant a dramatic decrease in the number of surreptitious glances in Hermione's direction. Which was a bliss for the tormented witch. Only Malfoy's old friend Theodore Nott, whom she knew worked in the Department of International Magical Cooperation, gave her an odd look when they'd run into each other in the Level Two corridor. She would rather forget about that moment, realising how close she had been to stopping Nott and asking him about...

But it was too late. Malfoy deserved his happiness with Astoria Greengrass. And all she was left with was the memory of his lips on hers and a deep regret over numerous times when she had wanted to kiss him and never did.

On the 31st of December the Ministry would close early, but not without a traditional get-together for the employees. On this occasion, the civil servants were required to wear something more festive than their normal work robes. Despite not being in the mood for festivities, Hermione had seen no way of shirking the obligation so she'd decided on wearing the silk dress in a rich purple colour and with lovely flared sleeves which her mother had pressed her into buying from an elegant Muggle store in London. Hermione, thinking of her magical wardrobe full of ball gowns and cocktail dresses from the social balls she had visited with Ron, had wanted to refuse, but her mother's encouraging gaze had been too much for her and she had given in. It had been the first purple piece of clothing she'd bought since she'd confronted her nightmares in the drawing room at Malfoy Manor. She considered it progress. When she had scrutinised her own appearance in the mirror this morning, she'd established that the dress suited her well enough but that her eyes were looking back at her sadly, and she was looking rather pale.

Behind her small enchanted office window, night fell and streets light were being lit. Outside her office, she heard voices of Ministry workers leaving their workplace. Hermione looked up from the report on Troll activities, checking the clock for the time. She let out a sigh and began to clear her desk. Silently, she wished she could laugh as carefree as her colleagues passing by her office. But she'd lost that ability when Voldemort had plunged Britain into darkness, and now there was a dejectedness added to it that made the sound hurt her ears.

Her thoughts subconsciously trailed back to another New Year's Eve seven years ago, when she'd missed the fireworks at Hogwarts because of an owl landing on the balustrade of the fourth-floor balcony, carrying a message for her. There would be no messages this year, only the prospect of finally seeing the fireworks at Hogwarts this year, because she'd accepted an invitation from Professor McGonagall to celebrate New Year's Eve at the school. Hermione suspected that the events of the past few weeks had something to do with the invitation, but she only felt grateful toward the old woman who was obviously worried about her. The teachers were also more observant than she'd given them credit for back then, as they had actually noticed the absence of their two oldest students at the fourth-floor balcony that New Year's Eve.

Hermione took the files from her desk and began to store them away in the heavy, iron filing cabinet behind her office door.

"Hermione Granger?"

Hermione's hand froze mid-air. It was a tinkling voice; one she would recognise everywhere but had never expected to hear again. Slowly, she turned around and noticed the silvery glow in her office. It couldn't be... But there it was, the ferret-shaped Patronus, looking up at her with trusting eyes. Hermione drew in a sharp breath.

"Draco," she whispered and her heart leapt up in her chest. "How..."

"I come with word from Draco Malfoy," the ferret told her with its ethereal voice. "He still owes you a message, in answer to your question."