Lucius Malfoy was very talented.
Hermione thought this while staring out the window of her bedroom. It had begun to rain.
She had finished her gagging and crying, and had stormed back into her bedroom, lights flickering with magic.
She would not put up with this, she had thought. She would not be manipulated like a common school girl. She would write back to Lucius Malfoy, detailing that she had no intention of becoming someone good enough for his son. She and Draco were to start courting, and they would get married – NOT in the Malfoy Gardens, thank you very much – and they would have children and none of them would be blonde because it was a recessive damn trait, Lucius. And she would ensure that not a single brunette Malfoy cub had any idea how to hold a spoon or balance a checkbook, or ballroom dance, or any of it!
She had paced to her purse, rummaging for a quill and parchment. And that was when she found it.
A leather folio detailing how Draco Malfoy was going to change the world.
She sat on her bed now, staring out the window, the folio open on her lap. She had devoured the whole thing, front to back, and had run her fingers over his delicate handwriting. He had detailed everything, clearly having done his research on the history of werewolves, the current problems, and the failed solutions.
The fifth tab in the leather folder contained a legal analysis. He had found flaws in the existing laws that governed werewolf regulations. He outlined how Malfoy Consulting Group would target these flaws in an aggressive attack against the Wizengamot.
The seventh tab contained hypotheses about how testimony from the werewolf community could strengthen the argument, and how Harry Potter himself could step forward to defend Remus Lupin and his excellence in teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. Draco had somehow been informed that Harry learned to produce a Patronus from Remus when he was thirteen, and he planned to use that to his advantage as well.
The final tab was filled with personal notes. She was shocked to see scribbles and bullet-point ideas in his handwriting. Shocked that he would let her see them. One of the ideas was an unformed thought regarding the new Muggle-Born Integration Laws being evaluated by the Wizengamot this spring. These laws would require that a percentage of every private business's staff be Muggle-born, and Draco was clearly in the middle of a thought regarding similar laws that could apply to werewolves. She read through his scratches and scribbles and found the reasoning for leaving this idea out of the full presentation:
Would this be exclusive to werewolves? Or would the other species/creatures want this applied to them – if we represented.
Hermione had stared into space for several moments, imagining other species getting equal representation in the Wizengamot... if we represented.
It was all brilliant. He was brilliant. And she decided she would do everything in her power to get him what he wanted.
She would write an outstanding letter to Quentin Margolis. She would convince him of the importance of Malfoy Consulting Group, and give her full-hearted support to Draco Malfoy.
She would write to Lucius Malfoy. She would calmly explain that the pictures in question were part of a misunderstanding, a freak incident. She would pledge to stay away from Draco unless a social gathering or business venture called for it. She would inform him of her invitation to Narcissa's New Year's Eve Gala so that there would be no misunderstanding, and let him know she intended on going.
If this was not sufficient for him – Hermione brushed a tear away from her face – she would offer to begin her courses with Madame Michele in January. She would beg him to reconsider withholding the inheritance.
Hermione watched as a drop of rain wound its way down the outside of her window, joining with others and zooming past.
Anything you need.
~*~
She used Katie Bell on Monday to deliver the folio back to him. She told Katie to wait until he left his desk, and then place it on his chair. She'd included a copy of the letter she'd written to Quentin Margolis in the front pocket.
She told Harry he needed to organize an after-work celebration on Friday for Draco. Harry looked quite confused as to how to go about doing that, so she enlisted Katie Bell's help with that as well.
That Monday Witch Weekly printed, with a picture of Draco Malfoy smirking on the cover. Most Charming Smile! Hermione laughed. She didn't think anyone had graced the cover without actually smiling.
The article went on, interviewing Draco on all manner of insipid subjects. What his favorite date restaurant was, what he looked for in a woman, what a woman should wear on a first date.
Hermione felt like she'd lost two O.W.L.s just by reading it.
The lifts brought them together on Wednesday at lunch time. She was so tired, staring at her shoes. She hadn't heard back from Lucius Malfoy yet, so she had no idea if this effort of not seeing him, not speaking to him, was even worth it.
She looked up as the lift stopped at Level 6 and the gates opened and revealed him. He was like fresh water. And she had been so parched. He caught sight of her and smiled.
She looked down, leaning against the back of the lift for support.
"Granger."
"Hello, how are you?"
"Well, thank you." He stepped in next to her, and as the lift shot to the side, she felt her hips brush his. "I heard back from Quentin Margolis."
She looked up at him. "And?"
"He's agreed to meet with me next week." He smirked down at her and she smiled up at him.
"That's wonderful news." She felt a blush slithering up her neck the longer she looked into his eyes. "I'm ... I'm so happy for you."
"I can't thank you enough, Granger."
She felt the heat of him next to her and was so relieved when someone joined the lift at Level 5.
"I'm just glad you asked me. I'm very impressed by the whole proposal."
Proposal... Why wasn't there a better word.
"I hear there's a party for me at a pub on Friday night," Draco pressed his lips together, pretending to frown.
"Is there?" She asked innocently. "Perhaps it's more of a celebration of you leaving."
"That must be it." He nodded, lips twitching.
She looked up at him as he suppressed his smile, staring at his shoes. She wasn't sure if she was allowed to speak to him, much less be this close to him, so she took a moment to drink it in. He must have felt her eyes on him. He lifted his head to look at her as the lift slowed for Level 4.
She turned away, and said, "Have a good day, Malfoy," as she stepped off. She had to work so hard not to call him Draco.
~*~
She was just getting ready for bed that evening when she heard a peck at her window. Hermione found herself staring at a plain grey owl outside her window. Her heart pounded as she let it in. It dropped a plain envelope and swooped out.
She opened another H.G. letter with shaking fingers. It was short.
Miss Granger,
I appreciate your concern for my son's business affairs. I accept your terms.
The inheritance will transfer in January, providing your social interactions with my son remain limited.
Madame Michele expects you at 8PM on Tuesday January 4th.
Lucius Malfoy
She fumed. He made an appointment for her without any consideration of her schedule?
She took a breath in, remembering that she had just saved Draco's inheritance. She would need to limit her social interactions with him, though. That would be easy enough. They were limited before.
I accept your terms. Like they were business partners.
She huffed and laid back on her bed, tossing Lucius's letter to the side.
January 1st couldn't come soon enough.
~*~
She didn't see Draco Thursday or Friday. She left work early on Friday, claiming sickness. She told Katie Bell to give her regards to Draco on his last day, but she wouldn't be coming to the pub after work.
She didn't see him that weekend at Cornerstone. She had never been so grateful for his absence.
On Monday, she was dragged into Mathilda's office to discuss her future. The position in House-Elf Relocation would be interviewing in the final weeks of December, but Mathilda still wanted her to apply for Draco's old position upstairs with Robards. Hermione nodded and thanked her, still feeling unsure of what she should do.
As the New Year's Eve Gala drew closer, Ginny dragged Hermione dress shopping. Ginny made an appointment for them at one of the high-end boutiques in Diagon Alley, usually reserved for wedding parties or the true wizarding elite. Ginny used Hermione's name on the reservation and suddenly a timeslot was available.
A salesgirl with shiny blonde hair assisted them, showing them to a private room of dresses only in their sizes. As they browsed the dresses, Ginny reminded Hermione that it was a "Black and White" gala. She'd need either a black dress or a white dress. Or a combination.
"I heard that Narcissa Malfoy ostracized someone for wearing grey to a Black and White gala before. The woman was never heard from again," Ginny said as she held a white dress out to Hermione.
"Why can't I just wear black?"
"Because I need to wear black. Obviously. I can't show up in a white dress. I'd be translucent."
"But... Why can't I wear black?"
"You want us both to show up wearing black, looking like we're at a funeral? No, Granger. Think of the overall aesthetic."
Hermione frowned and continued brushing her fingers across the fabrics. One of them was so smooth and soft that she stopped, tugging at the hanger. She pulled the dress from the rest and a luxurious white floor-length gown tumbled from her hands. It was remarkably modest – nothing too revealing in the chest area, sleeveless with gathered shoulders. Hermione turned the hanger around and found the back was completely open, dipping down to what she assumed would be the top of the hips, draping the fabric in a Grecian style. Far too revealing...
"Oh, Hermione. That's gorgeous." Ginny tossed the black chiffon dress she was toying with and ran to her.
"No," Hermione said. "But look at the back." She turned the hanger around and Ginny's eyes brightened.
"Perfect!"
Hermione was about to explain that she would much prefer herself to be covered, when the blonde salesgirl rushed in.
"The dress picks the witch, you know!" She grabbed the hanger from her and held it up. "Exquisite choice, Miss Granger. Hand-beaded at the shoulders and classically draped." The girl ran her hands over the dress, pointing at the shoulders, fingering the fabric as it flowed from the hanger like water.
"I... I couldn't wear something with an open back like that, I'm afraid."
"Oh, try it on Granger!" Ginny rolled her eyes. "What the harm?"
Hermione huffed, thinking of her beige bra that was firmly strapped across the middle of her back. She took the dress and went into the curtained room. She shucked her jeans aggressively, adamant that she would hate this dress.
She bought the dress. It was stunning. Ginny convinced her that she could wear a different kind of bra that wouldn't show across her back, or she could go braless, to which Hermione firmly disagreed.
~*~
They spent Christmas at the Burrow. Ron came for Christmas Day, and although it was strained, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had a wonderful time.
It was lovely to see George, and Percy was beside himself with jealously about Narcissa Malfoy's New Year's Eve Gala.
Molly kept trying to leave Ron and Hermione alone together, and the one time she succeeded, Ron broke the news that he was dating someone.
"That's lovely Ron!" She smiled and tried not to feel the tug in her chest.
"Yeah?" He squinted at her, face pinched with anxiety.
"Absolutely. I hope she's worthy of you." She winked at him, and Ron relaxed.
"What about you? Are you seeing anyone? I mean... You don't have to tell me –"
"No, no," she said. "That's quite alright. Er... no one at the moment. I have some big decisions at work in the next week that I'm concentrating on. Gawain Robards offered me Draco Malfoy's old position."
Ron's eye twitched at Draco's name, but he smiled at her. "That would be nice. You'd get to work with Harry."
"Right," she said, turning away. "But the other position that is open is in House-Elf Relocation."
"Oh." He looked at the ground. "That's... wow." He looked at her. "I mean... How would you chose?"
She laughed. "Exactly."
She was glad to have people in her life who truly understood her. They knew her passions and where she wanted to end up.
The rest of the day was lovely. She received several books, of course, and a Molly Weasley sweater. She sent Monica Wilkins some Muggle treats in the post, wishing her and her husband a happy holiday season in Australia.
~*~
The following Friday was the launch party and New Year's Eve Gala. Ginny arranged for a team of witches to do their hair and makeup, which made Hermione laugh.
"You know how to do your hair and makeup, Ginny! And you know how to do mine!"
"But I want everything perfect! I want to be invited back!"
Hermione shook her head at her. She guessed Ginny found these things just a difficult as she did. Both of them had grown up on the outside somehow – Ginny as underprivileged and Hermione as Muggle-born – and now they were being invited in.
Ginny convinced the hair and makeup team to leave Hermione's face as natural as possible, and to let her hair be down. The hair witch pulled half of her hair up, braiding it away from her face, and curling the runaway curls that lay on her back and against her shoulder. When she put on the white dress, Ginny told her she looked like a Greek goddess. Hermione swatted her arm and went to put on her shoes.
At their designated timeslot, Hermione and Ginny stood in front of their fireplace. Ginny had chosen a lovely black gown that she told Hermione was "sweetheart" style. She didn't know what that meant, but she liked it on Ginny.
She grabbed her clutch purse – borrowed from Ginny's closet – and waited for the ginger to hand over the Floo bag. Hermione could feel the air in the room dancing over the open back of her dress, and she already regretted the choice. She was far too exposed.
"Okay, Granger." Ginny turned to her. "Here's the deal. You need to find Draco Malfoy tonight and remind him that he's in love with you." Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, I'm serious here, Granger." Ginny grabbed her arm. "January 1st is three hours away."
Hermione's eyes flipped to the clock. "That's... I mean, Ginny... January 1st doesn't matter. The transfer of the inheritance matters."
"Then ask him when it transfers and then launch yourself on him at midnight!"
Hermione blushed and shoved Ginny off of her. "I will do my best. Are we ready?"
Hermione tossed the powder and stepped through the fireplace to find a completely different Malfoy Manor. Yes, the grand staircase was there, and the beautiful hallways leading to different wings of the house, but there were floating candles, magic snow falling and disappearing before it hit the ground, and at least a hundred people dressed extravagantly.
Ginny popped through just after her and cursed under her breath at the grandeur.
"My god, Hermione," she whispered. "Run back to Azkaban and tell Lucius that you accept all terms."
Hermione rolled her eyes and knocked her with her elbow. Just then she spotted Narcissa welcoming guests into the newly renovated drawing room, and Hermione didn't know if the nausea she felt was due to Narcissa or seeing the drawing room again.
There were house elves – all hired for the evening, Hermione was sure – walking with trays of champagne and Firewhisky, so Ginny grabbed two glasses of champagne for them. Hermione gulped down hers and placed the empty glass back on another passing tray. Ginny laughed.
"Shall we?"
Hermione took a breath and lead Ginny over to the receiving line where Narcissa was shaking hands and smiling with all types of people. When it was their turn, Narcissa turned her eyes on Hermione, and after a pause, she smiled. Hermione's heart beat again.
"Hermione, dear." Narcissa pulled her into a hug. "It's so wonderful you could make it. And this is Ginny Weasley, yes?"
Hermione watched as Narcissa greeted Ginny and they chatted briefly.
"Well, ladies, please do enjoy yourselves. I believe Mr. Potter is already inside. I will join the whole group in just a few minutes." Narcissa clasped Hermione's arm in a very friendly way.
Once they were inside, Ginny spotted Harry across the way. She went to save him from whatever conversation he was stuck in, leaving Hermione to take in the new drawing room.
It was completely renovated. It was as if the Malfoys has given the designer the instruction to make this room as unlike the previous as possible. Hermione couldn't even distinguish where the landmarks of the room had been. She could not locate the exact spot she had been tortured by Bellatrix, or the fireplace where she had recently relived it next to the Malfoys in Draco's memories. The phantom pain in her arm stopped tingling.
"Hermione Granger?"
She spun to see a tall, dark man approaching her.
"I thought that was you." He smirked at her, and she then recognized him as a Slytherin.
"Blaise Zabini, yes?"
"The one and only." He glanced her over, and Hermione stopped herself before she crossed her arms in front of her body.
Blaise held two glasses of champagne. He held one out to her, offering.
"I make it a point not to drink anything from a Slytherin, thank you though."
He smirked at her. "Then you'll have no fun tonight," he said, taking her glass back and exchanging it for a fresh one on a passing tray. "The champagne is from the Malfoy estate in Verzenay, France."
She stared at the glass as he placed it in her hands, coming to terms with the idea that the Malfoys not only had an estate in France, but they also had a Champagne vineyard. She recovered and looked up at him.
"I read that you lived in Italy. Are you back or just visiting?" Hermione sipped at her champagne, trying to figure out how to hold her clutch purse and her glass successfully.
"Back," he said. "I will be joining Draco's new business venture in January."
"Oh, congratulations."
"Thank you." He sipped his champagne and watched her as his throat moved. "So," he started. "Tell me, Granger. You're in the Great Hall, Potter has the Elder Wand, the Dark Lord is defeated, then what?"
She smiled at the ground. So casual in the way he described the Final Battle. "I work for the Ministry in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."
"And are you running the place yet?"
"No, I'm working in the Beast Division, mainly filing reports on illegal smuggling of dragon eggs."
"Really?" He pursed his lips. "I would have thought you'd be on the fast track to Minister of Magic by now."
"Well, maybe I'm just on the slow track." She smiled at him. His eyes sparkled as he smiled back at her.
"And you're engaged to Weasley?"
"Ah, no," she said. "That was a misprint in the Prophet."
"See, I don't even read the Prophet. I was just assuming."
"Then you assumed wrong." She grinned. He reminded her of Draco slightly, same charm, same confidence.
"And you've become friends with the Malfoys? Lunch dates and the like?"
"I thought you didn't read the Prophet." She looked at him over the top of her glass. He quirked a brow at her and chuckled.
He stepped closer to her, placing his hand lightly on her waist. He brought his mouth to her ear to whisper, "Between you and me, Granger, you could do better."
She shivered. Her cheeks warmed, whether from the comment, the champagne, or his hand on her waist, dangerously close to her open back. He pulled back, lifting his hand. He looked at her face with a cocky smile, and Hermione didn't know what to do.
"Blaise," a female voice. She turned to see one of the Greengrass sisters, pretty and smiling. "Draco needs to see you about his speech tonight."
"Of course, he does," Blaise smirked. He turned to Hermione, grabbed her hand, and brought her knuckles to his lips. "We'll speak again soon, Granger." With a wink, he turned to leave.
The Greengrass girl began to follow, then spun back, "Hello, Hermione."
"Hello."
Hermione still didn't know which one she was. The girl smiled and continued away. Hermione sipped her champagne, following them with her eyes to find where Draco was. They turned left around a beautiful ice sculpture in the middle of the room, and she finally spotted a blond head. He was standing with the other Greengrass girl, which didn't help her identify which was which. His black formal robes were lined with silver, and the threads caught the light as he moved. He leaned into Blaise, saying something that put a smirk on the darker boy's face. Blaise responded and Draco scowled. Blaise gestured in her direction, and Hermione quickly looked away and began to pace the room.
Ginny and Harry found her as she was feigning interest in the hanging topiaries.
"Hermione, you look beautiful." Harry kissed her cheek.
"Thank you, Harry. New robes?" She looked him over.
"Yes. Just like you ladies, I wouldn't be caught dead at Malfoy Manor in an outfit I'd already worn." Harry's smile showed all his teeth, and Hermione realized that the Firewhisky glass he was holding could not have been his first. She looked to Ginny and she was rolling her eyes.
Hermione laughed, and feeling a bit reckless herself, said, "Well, cheers to Malfoy Manor! And their newly renovated drawing room!" She clinked her champagne glass with Harry's and Ginny's and then downed it. Ginny laughed, wide-eyed, and Harry gave a "Cheers to Malfoy Manor!" that was louder than necessary.
A flash went off to their left, and Hermione turned to see Bozo chronicling their drinking.
"Wonderful," Harry said, and he smiled at the camera for the next picture with practiced ease.
"Well, no one can say the Gryffindors had a hard time fitting in!" Ginny toasted the camera and downed her champagne. She grabbed Hermione's hand. "Come on, I see Skeeter coming. Let's get another drink."
Ginny lead her through the crowd, ducking under floating trays of hors d'oeuvres and darting around black and white dresses. Hermione giggled as she was lead through the archway into a second room with even more people. They stopped and took in the Malfoy ballroom. It was twice the size of the drawing room, with opulent tapestries on the walls and a brilliant chandelier. A string quartet played in the corner and several couples were dancing in the middle of the room.
"Well, fuck," Ginny said. And Hermione burst out laughing.
~*~
Hermione spent the next two hours sipping champagne and hobnobbing with the wizarding elite. She was introduced to several well-known Curse-Breakers whose books she had already read, a handful of Beauxbatons professors and graduates, and the German Minister of Magic. It wasn't until 11:15PM that she realized there was almost a line of people standing around, waiting to introduce themselves. And Rita Skeeter was pushing her way to the front.
As the dragon specialist from Romania was saying goodbye, promising to follow up regarding a special project, Rita stepped in.
"Miss Granger. A few words for the Prophet on how the evening is going?"
"Uh... yes, it's splendid." Hermione deflated.
"Oh, Hermione dear, there you are," said a voice to her right, and Hermione was astonished to see Narcissa Malfoy arrive as her knight in shining armor. "Rita will you excuse us, I would love to introduce Hermione to someone."
Before Rita could say another word, Narcissa had turned Hermione and walked her away.
"I don't actually have anyone to introduce you to, I just knew you would want to get out of there." Narcissa linked her arm through hers.
"Oh, thank you," Hermione laughed. Narcissa weaved her through the crowd.
"You look absolutely stunning, Hermione. You're all anyone can talk about." Narcissa squeezed her arm.
"Oh, I..." Hermione blushed. "Thank you. I'm sure that's not true."
She pressed the back of her hand to her neck, trying to cool down.
"Are you warm, dear?"
"Only a little. I don't usually wear heels, so I think my legs are working harder than ever!"
"You know," Narcissa started. She stopped and looked around like she was about to spill a secret. "Whenever I host these parties and I feel overwhelmed, I take a moment on my private balcony."
"Oh?"
"Here," Narcissa said. She pulled aside a curtain, and revealed a beautiful entryway to a balcony. "Take a moment to yourself, dear. They will be on you like vultures for the rest of the night."
"Thank you, Narcissa." Hermione smiled at her as she stepped out onto the balcony, wishing they had never parted. "I have to say, I've been quite remiss. I still have your books that I borrowed. Can I owl them back to you?"
Narcissa waved her hand. "Oh, I'd quite forgotten, dear." Her eyes sparkled. "Why don't we set up a date for you to come back and exchange them?"
Hermione blinked at her. She would allow her back? After everything? "I – I would like that very much, Narcissa."
Narcissa beamed at her. "Draco is making a speech at midnight, so make sure to come back inside by then!" She winked at her, and disappeared behind the curtain.
Hermione turned and found she was overlooking the manor's gardens. By the light of the stars she could just make out where the peacocks were sleeping. She walked the ten paces to the ledge, and felt the warming charm on the patio even with the wind. She ran her hands over the stone railing.
The reflection of the moon shone in a small pond to the left, and just next to it a gazebo. She wondered how stunning the view was during the day and then it hit her.
The Malfoy Gardens. This was where her wedding to Draco would be, if Lucius had his way. Her breath puffed a cloud in front of her, imaging the chairs facing the gazebo. The string quartet that she could faintly hear inside the ballroom would be set up on the shore of the pond.
She hated that Lucius had a lovely wedding planned. And that she couldn't think of a better one.
She spent the next ten minutes or so standing against the railing, running her fingers over the smooth stone while she watched the wind move through the trees, listening to laughter and violins.
A burst of sound from behind her as she heard the curtain move, and she turned over her shoulder to see Draco exiting the party, champagne glass in hand.
He stopped in his tracks when he saw her there, and she was acutely aware that her bare back was facing him as she twisted her neck to look backwards. He looked surprised to see her.
Oh, Narcissa, you sly dog.
She swallowed as he continued towards her. She hadn't seen him since the lifts at the Ministry. That was weeks ago.
"You know, Draco, it's a Black and White party. Your silver accents are truly throwing off the whole aesthetic."
She tried a small smile.
"Ah, but I am the host. I must distinguish myself from the rest of the rabble."
He smiled back at her. She turned her gaze back to the gazebo, thinking that silver would be a wonderful color for a winter wedding...
"It's a beautiful party. I've never been to a Narcissa Malfoy New Year's Eve Bash. Is it always this grand?"
He stepped up next to her on the balcony railing, and she watched as the Slytherin ring on his thumb tapped the stone railing. He sighed.
"Just about. Twice as many people."
"All clamoring to be nearer to the winner of Most Charming Smile, December 1999," she said.
"I heard you were drawing quite a crowd yourself, Granger."
She met his eyes. He blinked and turned to the grounds. Something about his face was strained. She tried to put her finger on it but it lacked the ease of their last interaction in the elevator.
So she decided to make it more awkward.
"Where is Katya tonight?" She held her breath and wished for a rewind button.
He kept his gaze on the grounds, and said, "She's in Bulgaria for the holidays." She watched him as his eyes drifted over the pond and the peacocks. Did he also imagine his wedding in the Malfoy Gardens? "She is still desperate to sit down with you."
"Well, I would be open to that," Hermione said. "She's lovely." She watched as the muscles in his jaw worked. "How's the inheritance transfer coming along?" Draco looked up at her at that, and she felt the need to continue. "I remember you saying that your father would release it on January 1st," she said. "Is everything... falling into place?"
She focused on exhaling as his eyes shined at her.
"My father is... being slightly difficult, of course." He looked away and Hermione felt her blood rushing. That bastard.
"How so?"
"He says he'll transfer portions of it over the next months. The first portion will transfer this Tuesday." He cracked his neck.
Hermione's mouth opened, shocked. Her first lesson with Madame Michele was this Tuesday.
"But enough about that." Draco turned around. He leaned his back against the railing, facing the party, and turned his head to her. "Will you be taking the analyst position with Robards?"
She watched as his eyes danced over her face, feeling the warmth sneaking across her collarbone. "It's a possibility." She watched as his face tensed and relaxed, blinking at her. And it struck her.
He was struggling to build a wall. She noticed his breath moving more quickly than normal, and the stiff way he held himself. His tense jaw.
She turned away from him, looking out at the gazebo again. "There are a few positions open, that I'm interested in. I had two interviews this week."
"They didn't truly make you interview?" he asked, lifting a brow at her. She nodded, confused. "So you sent in the wrong resume again? I've told you before, it just needs to say Golden Girl across the top."
She smiled, thinking of their first chat in the pub, when she'd told him she'd submitted for her job under a false name, not wanting preferential treatment.
"Where else? What other positions?" He sipped at his champagne glass, and she watched as he held it by the stem, between two fingers.
"House-Elf Relocation."
"You don't want to work in House-Elf Relocation, Granger." Condescending, smiling at his shoes.
She turned to him, straightening. "Oh, I don't?" she scoffed.
"You don't want to sit in an office, filing reports on Elf beatings and misuse, only to pull them from their current homes and place them with a different set of masters to beat them. You don't want to work under the current legislations."
She watched him as his gaze ran over the curtains to the ballroom. "And what is it I do want to do?"
He looked at her. "You want to create the law. You want to change the world." She watched him. "You can't change the Ministry from within. And you can't do anything from your cubicle in the Beast Division, Special Concentration in Dragon Research and Restraint."
He looked back and forth between both of her eyes. He was telling her something. And he'd gotten his wall back in place.
"So you think I should take the position in the Auror Office?"
"Until they offer you Minister of Magic, that would be the best choice between the two. Upward mobility at least."
She pressed her lips together as she stared out onto the grounds, and suddenly wondered if her lip color was still there.
"You have a speech at midnight?"
"Yes," he said. He cleared his throat. "'Thanks for coming, best millennium ever,' all that rot."
She smiled. "You came out here to practice, didn't you?" He nodded. "What else are you going to say?"
"Well, a bit about recruitment. Mother invited a lot of Hogwarts, Durmstrang, and Beauxbatons recent graduates. Young witches and wizards who are looking for careers." He leaned his hip against the railing, facing her. "Some elite members of society, too. We're either looking to hire senior positions or take their companies on as clients."
"You're going to steal people away from their high-ranking government and private industry jobs tonight?" she said, smiling at his arrogance. He nodded. "With one midnight speech?" He nodded again, a smirk pulling at his lips. "And how do you plan to do that?" she said with a laugh. "Most of these elite people have standing positions or loyalties, lasting relationships." She looked at him and he was already watching her.
"Anyone can be seduced, Granger."
She felt her breath leave her in a silent puff. His eyes were dark and she felt very warm. She swallowed. Her eyes drifted to his lips on their own accord, and she knew she shouldn't be staring at his mouth. She watched him swallow. She watched him step closer to her.
And she turned her head away, back to the grounds, taking a slow breath in. The money hadn't transferred. She shouldn't even be this close to him.
Her lips were dry so she wet them with her tongue and immediately regretted licking her lips in front of him. She blinked and searched the grounds for another topic, feeling the wind brush against her open back, ghosting over the fabric where it met her skin. She shivered. Was it the wind?
"What did my father say to you?" A whisper, his breath floating across her ear.
She gasped, feeling the heat of a finger on her ribs.
A voice from behind them, "Draco?"
Hermione whipped around, and saw Draco's arm returning to his side as they met the smirk of Blaise Zabini.
"You gave me one job tonight, mate," Blaise said, strolling towards them. "'Make sure I'm ready for my speech at ten minutes to midnight.'"
Draco's wrist snapped up, checking his timepiece. "Er...yes, thanks mate." He gave her a glance, and Blaise stepped forward.
"I'll take care of her, Draco." He winked. "She can stand with me." Blaise offered her his arm, and she took it, cautiously.
Draco looked between them quickly, before nodding, and making his way inside. Blaise and Hermione followed him. Blaise led her through the ballroom and back into the drawing room where a stage had been conjured. A serving tray passed and Blaise took a glass of champagne as the clink of wands against champagne glasses began, echoing throughout the drawing room. Blaise gestured to the tray, telling her to take her own glass so she wouldn't accuse him of handing her a glass again. She grabbed one and sipped, trying to cool down.
"This works out well then." Blaise sipped at his champagne. "I was wondering who I'd get to kiss at midnight."
Hermione looked up at him. He was smirking down her, letting his eyes travel over her face, down her neck. She scoffed at his confidence. He was so charming though.
"Blaise," a voice in front of them. The same Greengrass sister. "Draco needs you."
Blaise laughed a booming sound. "Oh, Merlin, he's good!" He smiled and turned to Hermione, picking up her hand to kiss her knuckles again. "Maybe next year, Hermione Granger."
He winked and followed the Greengrass sister.
The tapping of wands against glasses escalated, until she saw Narcissa's white form ascend to the stage. She pressed her wand against her throat as the crowd cheered for her. She smiled graciously, and quieted the group with a delicate hand.
Hermione stood towards the back of the group, just where the ballroom flowed into the drawing room. She could just pick out Ginny and Harry, ahead of her. They held hands and leaned into each other. Hermione decided to stay put, instead of seeking them out.
"You are all too kind." Narcissa's cool voice flowed over the crowd with the help of the amplifying charm. "What a full year we've had." And several people chuckled. "What a full century!" More laughter. "It's such a pleasure tonight to see new friends, and old faces. Of course, some faces are older than others I'm afraid." Narcissa brought her manicured fingers to her temples, tapping her own surfacing wrinkles. Even more laughter.
Hermione looked around as Narcissa continued, thanking everyone. Every eye was on her. She was in full control of her room, her people. Women were smiling, men were gazing, and even those scowling were silently in love with her.
"I told my son I wouldn't take up too much time, so that we could still count down to midnight." She turned and smiled at where Hermione assumed Draco to be standing. Hermione shifted until she could see him. "So please allow me to bring to the stage someone who would like to welcome you to the year 2000. Draco Malfoy."
Narcissa turned to allow him up to the stage. He ran up the two or three steps as the crowd cheered him mercilessly. Hermione clapped, looking around and finding that most of the noise came from young witches in revealing dresses.
Of course.
"Thank you, thank you," Draco said. "My mother, it seems, left me only three minutes to midnight." Narcissa shrugged as she descended the stairs. The crowd laughed and Hermione glared at the girls who giggled.
Draco continued, "I think we're all looking forward to the new year. I, for one, am desperate to leave the 90s behind. They were dreadfully boring, weren't they?" His voice was light and sarcastic.
Hermione laughed out loud at that, and her eyes searched out the back of Harry's head while the entire room lurched with laughter. Harry was shaking his head at Draco, smiling, and Hermione was struck by how things can change with just a year.
She looked back at Draco as he was smiling at his own joke. "And nothing terribly exciting happened this year either." He pushed his hair back from his face in a delightful move that had more than one woman fanning herself. He lifted a brow. "Or did it? You'll have to tell me, I was in Azkaban for the majority of it."
Hermione sputtered a laugh and several people almost spat their champagne out, while Draco Malfoy smiled, mocking himself in front of a crowd. Raucous laughter. Incredulous giggling. The man next to her burst an "Oh, ho!" She watched Narcissa purse her lips, still smiling but quietly disapproving of his nonchalance, but next to her, Blaise was covering his mouth, eyes wide, and the Greengrass sisters were looking at each other with open mouths, giggling.
Hermione looked around the room as the entire wizarding world fell in love with Draco Malfoy even more than they already had. What was fifteen months in Azkaban if you had a sense of humor about it? She saw a surly older woman who had scowled at Narcissa Malfoy earlier, raise her fingers to her lips, hiding a smile.
Anyone can be seduced, Granger.
His voice fluttered across her ears as she watched Draco seduce them all. She watched him bite his bottom lip, grinning at his dig at himself. He swallowed and continued.
"No, but truly – it's been a long and complicated year." And the crowd quieted, still smiling at him. "It wasn't long ago that I was the most hated boy in all of wizarding Europe. And I thank you all for giving me a second chance."
She held her breath as the sound left the room, and the smiles drifted from faces.
"I'd say the year 2000 is about rebirth. Second chances. I'm starting a little company, don't know if you've heard—"
Blaise let out a whoop and started a clap. The room joined in and Hermione then understood Blaise's purpose.
Draco smiled and said, "And to me, this company is about second chances. It's about achieving goals, dreaming ideas, and creating new paths. I want to assist people. I want to provide support and assistance for their goals, their businesses, their legal battles."
Hermione thought of Quentin Margolis and his werewolf pack. And all of the other species Malfoy Consulting Group could assist. She smiled down into her champagne glass, feeling nothing but pride for her new friend, Draco Malfoy.
"We at Malfoy Consulting Group want to create the law. To change the world." She looked up at him, hearing his words from the balcony. His eyes were already locked on her. Five hundred people between them. "And if like me, you find your cubicle becoming too small for you..."
She swallowed, her heart slamming against her ribcage. He looked away from her and smiled at the rest of the crowd.
"... We're hiring."
The crowd chuckled. The girls with too much makeup and too much cleavage waggled their eyebrows at each other and several middle-aged men smirked into their champagne, thinking of their cubicles. Hermione squeezed her glass, brain firing rapidly.
"And if I've done this right," Draco muttered, shaking his wrist to see his timepiece. "Then we are now at –"
Hermione watched as Draco smiled.
"Ten. Nine. Eight.—"
Several people gasped and checked their watches. The obnoxious gigglers jumped up and down, and couples grabbed each other, ready to kiss.
"Seven. Six.—" The whole crowd joined in.
Hermione was still. She couldn't find her voice as the throng of people added their voices. Draco raised his glass in the air and the entire room joined him.
"Five! Four!—"
She could feel the air entering and exiting her lips, but she felt like she wasn't breathing. Then Draco found her eyes again.
"Three! Two! One!"
He lifted his glass to her as fireworks bounced around the room. He watched her as he brought his glass to his lips.
"Happy New Year!"
Hermione found her breath and lifted her own glass, drinking deep as he watched her.
A man in front of her turned to his wife and kissed her, his head now blocking her view of Draco. That snapped her out of it. When she could see him again, he was descending the stage, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek. She watched as he kissed the Greengrass sisters on the cheek, and then Blaise reached for him tapping his own cheek playfully. Draco pushed him away, wrinkling his nose. She watched as an older gentleman approached him, shaking his hand. They spoke briefly, with Blaise by his side, nodding heads. Draco gestured to Blaise and the older man shook Blaise's hand. Draco's first business deal of the new year.
Suddenly Ginny was in front of her, bouncing up and down and grabbing her face, planting a kiss right on her lips.
Hermione sputtered while Ginny laughed.
They stayed for another hour. Hermione made even more acquaintances, dodged Skeeter, and managed to say goodnight to Narcissa before they made their way to the fireplaces without seeing Draco again.
She got to her bedroom, kicked off her heels, and summoned a parchment and quill. She was sweating as she wrote:
Hermione Granger
-The Golden Girl
She folded it into an envelope addressed to Malfoy Consulting Group, c/o Draco Malfoy, and sent it without another thought in her brain.
She paced her room for twenty minutes in her white dress, imagining the way the champagne glass had felt against her lips as Draco sipped from his. A lover's kiss at midnight.
She took off her makeup. She took off her dress. She tossed up her hair and pulled on her pajamas. She laid in bed, staring at the ceiling until she heard a pecking at her window.
An eagle owl swooped in as she opened the window, dropping a large manila envelope and swooping out. She picked up the package with shaking fingers and opened the top.
The cover letter read:
Welcome to Malfoy Consulting Group, Golden Girl.
D.M.
She gasped, the weight of it hitting her as she looked at the top of the packet he'd delivered. A contract for her position as a Senior Consultant, overseeing a department called Non-Wizard Relations. Specializing in Magical Creatures and Muggle Relations.
She sat on the edge of her bed. And smiled.