~*~
"You would not believe who I ran into today," Ginny said to her sister-in-law later that evening, fixing tea in her tiny flat. It was about 8 in the evening, and Hermione was enjoying a quiet evening away from Ron, who was talking Quidditch and playing wizard poker at the small house he and his wife shared out near Ealing with a number of his chums from the Department of Magical Games and Sports.
Hermione raised an eyebrow as she accepted a coffee mug full of Earl Gray tea from Ginny and sat gratefully down at the kitchen table. She took a sip and sighed happily before asking,"Who?"
Ginny sat across from her, facing the living room where Hermione’s twins were playing dragons with Jamie, their three red heads bent together industriously. Sarah and Willie were already in bed, but Jamie was allowed to stay up a bit longer to play with his older cousins. "You might want to put your cup down."
"Oh, don’t be a tease! Who?"
"Don’t say I didn’t warn you...Draco Malfoy."
Hermione almost dropped her mug from nerveless fingers. "No!"
Ginny giggled at the expression on Hermione’s face. "Told you!"
"I thought he was dead!"
"Apparently he’s not, since he seemed mobile enough to rescue Jamie and bring him back to me. Not corpselike in the slightest. I didn’t recognize him at first...he’s really changed."
"He rescued Jamie?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raising.
"You know James, always wandering off on his own, looking for adventure. This time he found Malfoy and convinced him to help Jamie come find me. Near scared the life out of me to turn around and find Jamie holding the hand of some strange man, then have that man turn into Draco Malfoy."
"I’m sure!" Hermione said sympathetically. "So what did he say?"
"Not much, actually. Just that he’s working with Neville - of all people - doing Auror work, and that he’s only been back a short while. Six months or so. He was in Canada, apparently. He has the tiniest American accent...it’s quite cute." Ginny smiled.
"Um, cute?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at her sister-in-law. "I thought you said you met Draco Malfoy. Cute?"
Ginny laughed. "Yes, cute. Well, sexy would work as an adjective as well."
Hermione just stared.
Ginny laughed again. "What? It is kind of sexy! It makes him sound rather exotic."
"Gin, dear, are you sure you’re feeling alright?" Hermione asked, looking concerned. "Because if you’re having these kinds of thoughts about someone like Draco Malfoy, maybe you should consider perhaps getting out of the house a bit more. There's a lovely young man working at the Library who - "
"’Mione! Would you please stop matchmaking? All we did was chat," Ginny said indignantly. She eyed her friend quietly for a moment, then decided that she wouldn’t share the rest of the encounter. Somehow, Ginny doubted Hermione would understand what had prompted Ginny to accept Draco’s offer of a walk home, coffee and ice cream. In fact, Ginny wasn’t sure herself. It might have been the look in his eyes when he’d first helped her to her feet in the shop, or the tingle she’d felt whenever he touched her, however lightly. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made her feel like that, or looked at her the way he had, with that sort of - of desire, for lack of a better word. She actually wasn’t even sure that anyone had ever looked at her like that, not even Harry.
"Earth to Ginny...are you alright?"
Ginny started. "Of course, sorry." Hermione was still looking at her with an expression of disquiet. She realized that she was playing with her teabag, dipping it in her mug and raising it up to watch the water drain off it in abstraction.
"I said, I didn’t really think that Draco Malfoy would be the type of person you’d actually talk to. He’s so...so..."
"He was rather pleasant, actually," Ginny said defensively.
Hermione shot Ginny a skeptical look, brushing her bushy brown hair back from her face. "Are you sure it was Malfoy?"
"Yes, I’m sure it was Malfoy, I do remember him from school. I could tell it was him. Not right off, mind, but it was definitely him." Ginny set her teabag aside and took a sip from her cup. "He looks...well. Different, but not totally so. Tanned. He’s gained weight."
Hermione smirked at that. "Happens to the best of us, I’m sure," she said with a hint of malice. Hermione had put on some weight after having the twins, and was rather sensitive about it, despite Ron's protests that she looked just fine. She was usually half-heartedly following one diet or another trying to lose a few pounds. Ginny didn’t have the heart to tell her that in Draco’s case, 'gained weight' meant that he’d filled out and got broad and well-muscled and lithe and chiseled and...and....
"Gin?"
"Sorry, just thinking."
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. "You’re blushing."
"I am not blushing!" Ginny protested, trying to will her cheeks to stop turning pink.
"You are, you are sitting there and blushing over Draco Malfoy!"
"I am not!"
"Ginny..."
"What? I ran into him, and he was really rather pleasant, and I thought it was worth mentioning, that’s all!" Ginny set her mug of tea down on the table with a thump.
Hermione held up her hands. "Alright, alright, no need to get defensive, I was just saying."
"Well, touching as your concern is, it’s a bit misplaced, as nothing happened, and nothing will happen, and he probably won’t call anyway and it doesn’t matter and I don’t know why I mentioned it," Ginny said, pouting a bit. "So I guess we can just drop it."
"Call?" Hermione said faintly.
"Oh, hell," Ginny said despairingly, dropping her head into her hands. "I wasn’t going to tell you that."
"You gave him your phone number?"
"Yes," Ginny said in a very small voice.
Hermione was aghast. "Why?" Ginny sighed and rested her chin in her hand, staring at her cup of tea. "Because... because he was friendly and nice to the kids, he bought me a coffee and it’s been so long since any man has even looked at me twice, and then he asked for my phone number. So I thought, why not?"
"Why not? Because he’s Draco Malfoy, that’s why not!" Hermione spread her hands, as though it should have been obvious.
"So what?" Ginny shot back.
"Ginny, he was a suspected Death Eater! His father was a Death Eater! The whole Malfoy family was allied with Voldemort! The Ministry spent ages looking for him after the war! I can’t believe you’d even talk to him, never mind give him your phone number...what if he finds out where you live? What if he’s just using you for some revenge plan on Harry, because Harry killed Lucius?"
"Oh, please, be realistic. If he’d wanted revenge on Harry, he’d have done it before now. It’s been 12 years!" Ginny scoffed.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold," Hermione said darkly.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "He is not out for revenge, Hermione."
"How do you know? He wouldn’t say so, now would he? I just don’t want to see you get mixed up in something bad," Hermione said, taking a sip of tea.
"Well, he’s working with Neville. Ask him about Draco if you’re so concerned," Ginny said sullenly. "And, you know, I am 28 years old. I can actually take care of myself, strange though it may sound."
"Gin, I’m sorry. I’m just a little worried is all. You weren’t really involved in all the things that went on during the war, so maybe your perspective is a little different. I just don’t want to see you get involved in anything you can’t handle," Hermione said reasonably.
Ginny tightened her lips and didn’t reply, trying her best to ignore the implication that she wasn’t capable of handling something on her own. She loved Hermione, but sometimes her "I am the solver of all problems" attitude was really irritating.
"I can just imagine what Ron will say if he hears Malfoy is back," Hermione continued. "He’ll positively flip - "
"Oh, God, ‘Mione, don’t tell Ron!" Ginny's eyes widened in horror. Ron hated Draco with a thorough and quite unreasonable passion.
"Do I look stupid? Or suicidal? Ron won’t hear it from me. I won’t tell Harry either, for that matter," Hermione said. "Just...be careful, Ginny."
Ginny sighed, partly in relief, partly in annoyance. "Of course."
~*~
"So, tell me about Malfoy," Hermione said to Neville over her shoulder. They were in the lunch room of the Ministry of Magic, which despite being housed in a large stone building dating from the 17th century and populated by witches and wizards of all descriptions, still managed to look like all cafeterias everywhere: yellow linoleum, battered tables and molded plastic chairs that doubled as torture devices.
"And here I thought you were here for the pleasure of my company...you mean this date was just to pump me for information?" Neville said with a grin.
Hermione poked him with her elbow, since her hands were busy holding her cafeteria tray. "Nonsense, you know I’m here because I adore you madly, I just want to hear about Malfoy." She grinned back at him. "So tell me all about him. And tell me why you didn’t tell me you were working with him before!"
"I didn’t tell you before because it never came up. To be perfectly honest, we've been keeping his presence here as hush-hush as possible. There’s not all that much to tell, anyway." Neville nodded at a couple of people as he steered Hermione toward a table at the back of the crowded cafeteria "He's been in Canada for the last 12 years, and he just came back about 6 months ago to follow a suspect on a case he'd been working on there. The Ministry did an investigation on his actions during the war, and the verdict came back clear, so now he’s working with our department; he doesn’t actually work directly for the MoM. Cecil assigned me to help him while he's here, so I see him a fair bit." Neville shrugged as he pulled Hermione’s chair out for her.
Hermione glanced at him sympathetically. "That must be a bit awkward, having to work with him like that."
He shook his head. "Not really. It's rather strange, actually. It's like he became a different person while he was gone...I barely recognized him when I first met him again. I don't know what he was doing all that time, but he's a first-rate Auror now, got a nose for finding people and for anything Dark Arts related. And he picked up a passion for country music, of all things, which is incredibly irritating."
Hermione laughed. "As if Draco Malfoy could be anything less than incredibly irritating."
"Well that's the thing," Neville said. "He's actually not, anymore."
Hermione shot a skeptical look at him.
Neville grinned. "Well, not as much. He’s grown up quite a lot. He's still a wanker; he's still a merciless bastard, only now it's just to criminals, people who actually deserve it. With everyone else he's unfailingly polite. No more pulling wings off flies. No more tormenting people just because he can. The country music thing, and the fact that he always looks perfect, no matter what...those are the main irritating things about him now. That and he's a sarcastic fucking bastard, but then, he always was."
"He always looks perfect?"
"Always. Doesn't matter if he's just been chasing down a suspect, or hasn't slept in a week, or has spent 2 days in a car on a stakeout, the man always looks like he just
walked out of a salon. Hair perfect, nails manicured, pants pressed, drop dead gorgeous...I have no idea how he does it." Neville looked down at his own rumpled suit and sighed. "It is beyond annoying."
"Malfoy?"
"What?"
"You just used the phrase "drop dead gorgeous" to describe Malfoy."
Neville grinned. "Hermione, have you actually seen Draco since he came back?" His grin widened as she shook her head no. "Well, he looks much, much better than he did then. He is no longer the skinny ferret we knew and loved to hate. Not a woman in the office who hasn't fantasized about what our Mr. Malfoy looks like underneath those perfectly pressed suits I hate so much. I have no idea what he did while he was in Canada, but it sure as hell worked." He laughed at the look of frank disbelief on her face. "You really have to see him to believe it."
"I would have to see that. I keep trying to picture it, and end up seeing him as he looked at eleven; scrawny and short, with that nasty grin, hiding behind Crabbe and Goyle. God, how I hated him." Suppressing a chuckle, Hermione poked at her plate. "Remember the time I hit him, back in...what, third year? I don’t remember who was more surprised, him or me."
Neville laughed. "I remember hearing about it. Hermione, vanquisher of gits."
"So how do you put up with him?"
"I tell bad jokes. It irritates him no end, probably because half the time they actually make him laugh. He has a third-grade sense of humour." Neville shrugged. "I put up with him, he puts up with me, and between times we make a very good team."
Hermione looked bemused. "That, I would not have expected."
"What, that we actually get along?" Neville laughed as Hermione nodded. "Oh, half the time I do want to kill him, but...he's very, very good at what he does which goes a long way here. Anyone who is as good at Auroring as Malfoy is gets cut some slack. We all have quirks. Why the sudden interest in him, anyway? Planning to have a sordid affair on Ron, and casting about for the person most likely to give him a heart attack? Should I be hurt that I don't qualify?"
"I can't find the time to sleep with my own husband, never mind have a sordid affair with someone else," Hermione said with a laugh. "No, I'm just curious to see what he's up to now. Ginny ran into him the other day, and she mentioned it."
Neville froze, a forkful of peas halfway to his mouth. "Ginny?"
Hermione looked alarmed. "What?"
"Malfoy's seeing Ginny?"
"They’re not "seeing" each other, as far as I know. She says she ran into him at the supermarket, and he asked her for her number...she said that you were working with him, and I thought I’d ask. Is there a problem?"
"He's never bothered to mention it to me."
"Would he? From what Ginny says, they just ran into each other. No big deal."
Neville narrowed his eyes. "Gin’s still out in Barking, right?"
"Yes, silly, you know that, you helped her move."
Neville put his fork down calmly and pushed his tray away. "I think I need to have a word with my partner."
"What is it?" Hermione put a hand on Neville's arm. "Tell me what’s wrong. Is it about Malfoy running into Ginny?"
"Hermione...as far as I know, Draco is staying in his parents' old mansion near Bath. He is about as far from the East End of London as it is possible to get without living in Wales. How the hell did he "run in" to Ginny Potter at her local super?"
"What does that mean, then? Is Ginny in danger?" Hermione was stiff with alarm. Draco Malfoy may have been cleared of any wrongdoing in the war against Voldemort, but he was still Draco Malfoy. A man who, despite Neville’s assurances to the contrary, had tried to kill one of Hermione’s best friends, whose father was killed as he stood at Voldemort’s right hand.
"Danger? No. But I think its past time Mr. Malfoy and I had a little chat." Neville's eyes narrowed, and Hermione leaned back in alarm, almost unconsciously. The round-faced boy she'd known since Hogwarts was suddenly gone, replaced by a cold-eyed, hardened man, and Hermione felt a small pang of pity for Draco when Neville caught up with him.
~*~
"GINNY WEASLEY?"
"Potter."
"WHATEVER! What the hell are you trying to pull, Malfoy?"
Draco slumped in the visitor's chair in Neville's cramped office in the bowels of the Ministry building, tilting it backward onto its rear legs and putting his feet on Neville's desk, mindful of the piles of paper strewn everywhere. He stared broodingly at his loafers. "Nothing is going on. I ran into her, we chatted, I bought her coffee, end of story."
"How the hell did you happen to "run into her" in London's East End? You live in fucking BATH!" Neville was pacing in small circles next to his chair, glaring at Draco, who, despite the stuffiness of the room and the little man growing increasingly red in the face from yelling at him, still contrived to look both cool and comfortable.
"Only temporarily. And since when is it illegal for people who live in Bath to frequent the eastern half of London?"
"What are you planning?"
"For crying out loud, Longbottom, I am not planning anything. I ran into her, we went for coffee, I treated her kids to ice cream. That is all." Draco narrowed his eyes at his partner suspiciously. "Why are you so interested? And how did you find out I'd met her, anyway?"
"She told Hermione, Hermione told me."
"Of course...Granger, amateur detective, strikes again."
"It's Weasley now, and Ginny told her about you, so it hardly qualifies as detective work. I see her from time to time 'round the Ministry, and we meet up for lunch now and again; Ginny mentioned I work with you, and she asked. She’s worried."
"And yet I don't demand to know what you are doing having lunch with Ron Weasley - she married Ron, yes? - Ron Weasley's wife, preferring instead to give you the benefit of the doubt, and not immediately jump to the conclusion that "lunch" is an euphemism for "shagging her senseless". And I've just gone to a very unpleasant mental place, thank you, Longbottom."
Neville's mouth twitched slightly, and some of the tension went out of his shoulders; the Longbottom version of a belly laugh. "Fair enough, Malfoy. But you haven't answered my question. What is going on?"
"Don't get all interrogatory on me. Nothing is going on. Absolutely nothing at all. More's the pity," Draco muttered the last bit, but not quietly enough.
"Oh?" Neville asked softly, raising his eyebrows.
Draco sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "What do you want to hear?"
Neville sat down at his desk and eyed Draco over its littered surface. "How about the truth?"
Draco didn't look down, but stared at the ceiling as if hoping for divine intervention. "The truth, Mr. Longbottom, is that one afternoon not so long ago, I was out combing the supermarkets of London looking for Squirrel peanut butter - which apparently we do not sell here in Britain, although we should. World-dominating empire, my ass, can't buy decent peanut butter in this country - " he caught the look Neville aimed at him and sighed again. "Sorry. I was looking for peanut butter, and was accosted by a very small boy with bright red hair and Harry Potter's eyes. He calmly informed me that he had misplaced his mother - his words, not mine - and would I be so kind as to help him find her? What the hell was I going to do, tell a lost 6-year-old to sod off? So I let him lead me about, and discovered that Mother was none other than the littlest Weasel, all grown up."
"Peanut butter?"
"I like peanut butter," Draco said sulkily.
Neville snorted. "So, let me get this straight. You went on a quest for...peanut butter, ran into Ginny, suddenly decided to be her friend, and asked her out?" he asked skeptically.
Draco hitched one elegant shoulder in a small shrug. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Isn't shagging a Weasley against the Malfoy code of honour or something?"
"Well, since I'm the only Malfoy left, I figure I get to make my own rules."
"And?"
"And?"
"That's what happened? You got accosted by Jamie in the supermarket, and ended up shagging his mother?"
"You must lead a sad and sorry life indeed if you think that a cup of coffee constitutes a shag, Longbottom. If it does," Draco shot a sly glance at the litter of coffee cups scattered amongst the paper on Neville's desk, "you certainly get around."
Another twitch, one that almost became a smile. "But you intend to shag her, yes?"
"Hah."
Neville waited as Draco counted ceiling tiles. "That's not an answer."
"No, it's not."
"You do, though, don't you?"
"Do you plan to actually ask that young man down at the fish and chip place on the corner for his phone number, or are you just going to continue to make yourself sick on grease so you can stare at his ass?" Draco smirked as Neville's face went from red to white and back again.
"None of your damned business, you albino ferret!" Neville was quivering, but with rage or embarrassment, Draco couldn't tell. He spread his arms and shrugged.
"I do believe you just answered your own question."
"God, you're a pain in the ass."
"Notice me exercising remarkable self-restraint by not commenting on that."
"Fuck off."
"Poufter."
"Git. Don’t you have to be somewhere?"
"Might I remind you that you dragged me to the bowels of Hell that your Ministry superiors call their Headquarters to interrogate me?"
"And now I’m telling you to get the hell out. Smug, overgrown, whey-faced - "
"Why Neville, I didn’t know you cared." Draco swung his feet off the desk, tilted his chair back to the floor and stood, pausing at the door to blow the other man a kiss. "I’ll miss you terribly too, I promise."
"Get out. God." Neville stared at the door for several long moments after Draco shut it behind him. Something was up, he knew that, but Draco had always been close-mouthed, even as a child, playing his cards close to his chest. Neville was no closer to knowing what Draco was about with Ginny than he was when he’d dragged the other man down here, to pump him for information at Hermione’s request. All he had was a suspicion, and Neville knew better than anyone that of the two partners, it was not he who had the reliable hunches.
~*~
Several weeks later
"Hermione, I have nothing to tell you. I wish I did, but he’s a slippery bastard when he decides not to talk about something, and judging from the progress I’ve made - namely, none - I’m guessing that Ginny falls squarely in the category of Things Draco Will Not Discuss."
Hermione and Neville were back in the Ministry cafeteria, Hermione having run down from Diagon Alley, where she was doing research at the Library. "Ginny won’t say anything about him either, except to ask me not to tell Ron...which I agreed to, since you know what he’s like. All I know is that they’ve gone on three coffee dates, he's taken her and the children to the park twice, she zones out every time she talks about him, and that according to her, he seems to quite like the children. Which is disturbing in and of itself." She sighed and prodded at her lunch with her fork. "Why do we eat here? The food’s disgusting."
"We eat here, my dear, because I am on call and cannot leave the building. Sheer bad luck for you that most of the times we meet happen to be the times that I can’t actually go anywhere pleasant. I wouldn’t say that Malfoy liking kids is disturbing, just a bit out of character. Or what we know of his character, which isn’t much, to be honest."
"We know he’s a self-serving little sneak." Hermione snorted. "Or used to be," she added quickly at the look Neville shot her. "Can he really have changed that much?"
"Either he has changed that much, or none of us had any real clue as to what he was like back in school. Although considering the fact that all the Gryffindors hated him on sight, and vice versa, that might actually be close to the truth. Maybe there was always a warm, fluffy Draco just aching to get out the whole time."
Hermione made a rude noise.
"All right, maybe not. But he is a lot calmer now than he used to be. I don’t think he's using Ginny, if that’s what you’re worried about. He hasn’t slept with her, I know that. Hasn't even kissed her yet." Neville grinned as Hermione gaped at him. "I asked."
"You asked?"
"Quickest way to get an answer. He won’t lie to me."
"You seem so sure," Hermione said.
"Hermione, he’s my partner. My life is in his hands whenever we’re on duty and his in mine. We trust each other. We have to," he said. "Although it was hard at first...I kept waiting for him to lie in wait around a corner so he could, I don’t know, steal my wand and magic my shoelaces together. I did not want to be assigned to him, believe me."
"How did you end up working with Malfoy, anyway?"
"Long story, most of it classified. He came back, I was free, so they stuck us together. Sheer dumb luck. And now I’m stuck with him, the sly bastard," Neville said morosely.
"Why, Longbottom, I’m shocked and hurt to hear you say so. You think we’re stuck together? Don’t you believe in destiny? Fate? A meeting of true minds? Why, if it isn’t Mrs. Weasley." Neville and Hermione both jumped. Draco stood over the table a moment, smirking at Hermione, then leaned forward and gently closed her mouth, which had been hanging open as she stared at him, with one finger. She blushed a deep shade of red and quickly looked down at her food.
Neville had the appallingly bad grace to laugh at the expression on her face. "I did warn you," he grinned.
"Warn her about what?" Draco asked, looking interested.
Hermione blushed deeper and glared at Neville. "Oh, nothing. Just a conversation we had the other day. I haven’t seen you in ages, Draco, how have you been?"
"All right. Keeping busy...been here and there, doing this and that. Although I hate to interrupt your little tryst, I need to lure your date here away from you." Draco turned to Neville. "Cindy in Forensics thinks she might have something that could be a lead on the case."
Neville stood up immediately. "Finally. I’m sorry Hermione...duty calls. Give my love to Ron and the twins, will you?" He leaned over to give her a quick hug as she nodded. Draco took her hand and bowed to her with a flourish, kissing it softly on the knuckles and smirking before turning and following Neville out of the cafeteria, leaving Hermione alone with her plate full of mystery meat.
~*~
"I’m serious! I could not believe it was Draco Malfoy standing in front of me. He’s...he’s...I can’t even begin...I don’t know where to start. Lavender, you have no idea." Hermione was back in her own office, housed in one of the corner towers of the large building that served as Diagon Alley’s public library, sharing
tea with Lavender Thomas, nee Brown. Lavender was the researcher-in-residence for Divination at the Albus Dumbledore Public Library, a relatively new position, but one Hermione was glad to have her old housemate in. Flighty Lavender might be, but she was far better at Divination than old Trelawney had ever been.
The Library was a fairly recent addition to the heart of Wizarding London, having been established after the death of the great headmaster and the final defeat of Voldemort. Hermione spent half days there doing research during the week, and half days at the Ministry twice a month, lending her expertise in Transfiguration and Charms to whichever departments needed her. Now, however, she was ensconced in her chair, talking animatedly to Lavender, who’d cornered her the minute she got back.
"Judging from the look on your face," Lavender had said in a hushed voice, hauling Hermione across the library’s main floor, "something out of the ordinary happened at lunch. Spill!"
So Hermione was trying. "He’s...God he’s at least 6 feet tall, which he was before he left, but he’s filled out, and I don’t know, worked out or something. He’s not nearly as skinny or gawky as he was then. Remember how he used to be all elbows and knees and pointy nose? And he moves like a cat! And he has cheekbones to die for! How did we fail to notice that in school? And he grew out his hair, down past his chin, it’s practically silver now instead of just blond. And he’s got the nicest ass...oh lord." Hermione dropped her head into her hands. "And I just sat there gawking at him like an idiot. He actually had to close my mouth for me; I might as well have been drooling. I cannot believe myself. Given another moment, I’d have been simpering." She shook her head in disgust. "And now I’m babbling. I am officially going mad. It’s Draco Malfoy, for crying out loud...who cares what he looks like?"
Lavender laughed. "So how are we going to go about luring him in here? I have to see him now. If he can make Hermione Granger-Weasley, possessor of the cutest husband in England, go weak at the knees, he has to be a sight for sore eyes."
Hermione moaned. "Yes, now that I’ve made a complete fool of myself, I’ll just call up Neville and start dropping hints. ‘So, how’s Draco doing? Want to bring him down here so I can look pathetic again’? I am so embarrassed."
"Tell him to bring Draco over so I can look pathetic. I don’t mind." Lavender snickered, clearly enjoying Hermione’s discomfiture.
"Lavender, you are not helping!"
"I wonder if it would be polite to invite him out to lunch, you know, for old time’s sake..."
"Oh yes, there’s an idea. ‘Hello, Draco, I know we all loathed you with intensity at Hogwarts, but now that you’re back and look like sex on a stick, we desperate, depraved, middle-aged women would love to spend an hour or so slobbering on you and amusing ourselves by creating sordid little fantasies featuring you and
pots of chocolate, let’s hook up.’ Sound plan."
Lavender collapsed into gales of laughter. "Pots of chocolate?"
Hermione grinned evilly. "Oh, you can get quite a lot of mileage out of a pot of chocolate. You know that jarred Cadbury’s chocolate spread you can buy that Muggle kids love to put on toast? Very useful stuff."
"Oh dear...would it be wrong of me to picture Ron covered in chocolate?"
"Yes. Stick to Draco, or better yet, how about Dean? You know, the one you’re married to?"
"Bah, you’d never spot the chocolate on him."
"Wonder if they sell white chocolate in jars..."
"Hermione!"
"Hey, you get to picture my husband, I get to picture yours!"
Lavender descended into giggles again, infecting Hermione with her giddiness. Finally Hermione took a deep breath and sobered a bit. "It does make you wonder, though. I get the impression from Neville and Ginny both that the change in Malfoy is a lot more than just physical. I mean, he basically fled after the war. I wonder why he’s back now."
"Neville didn’t say?" Lavender asked.
"No, but you know how Neville is nowadays. You have to drag information out of him with a crowbar." Hermione sighed. "I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised that Draco has changed so much. Who would have thought, in school, that Neville of all people would make an Auror?"
Lavender nodded. "I know. Or that you and I would end up housewives, or that Parvati would end up a globetrotting glamourpuss." She sighed and patted at her own pale hair, drawn back in a sensible bun. "I wanted to be the glamourpuss."
Hermione laughed softly. "I always thought I’d become a teacher, stay at Hogwarts, have a career, maybe travel...and I end up married with two impossible children, barely finding time to do even half of the research I'd like."
"But you have a very cute husband."
"There is that." Hermione smiled fondly at the picture of Ron and their twin sons that held a place of honour on her desk. "Not that Dean is anything to sneeze at."
Lavender leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I always rather thought you’d end up with Harry, though."
Hermione blinked. "With Harry?"
"Well, yes. I mean, look at the choices. Ron, trusty sidekick with terrible temper or Harry, dashing and handsome defeater of evil wizards. I’d have gone for Harry."
"Ron doesn’t have a terrible temper!" Hermione protested, as Lavender nodded vehemently. "He doesn't! And anyway, I honestly never seriously considered it. I mean, Harry is a wonderful person, and my best friend, but...he’s like my brother. Ron’s always been more than that. And there was always Ginny for Harry."
Lavender nodded. "I always wondered about that. I mean, the whole dynamic of your friendship with the two of them. And how Gin fit into everything."
"I’ve never really analyzed it. Ron and I have always seemed like a bit of a couple, partly because Harry’s always been quite standoffish, even within the three of us. Self-contained. I did have a bit of a crush on him in fifth year, but I got over it, since he never seemed to notice, and because, well, Ron..."
"Ron followed you around like a puppy," Lavender giggled.
Hermione blushed and smiled. "And then Harry and I were the same height for a bit, which just killed any and all possibility of romance. Not that it’s his fault, but I don’t think I could date a man who was quite that short." That made Lavender snort and giggle again, but Hermione determinedly ignored her. "Well, it's not very romantic, is it? Gazing dreamily into your lover's eyes is all very nice in theory, but when it comes down to it, who'd be getting the jars down from the top shelf in that relationship? I don’t know how Ginny managed it. She was actually taller than he was for a little while, ‘til he hit his growth spurt in seventh year."
"Gin’s been starry-eyed for Harry forever, though. I doubt she cared," Lavender pointed out. "I was rather shocked they even got divorced."
"You and everyone else, including the entire Weasley family. I thought Molly was going to take to her bed from shock. But Harry and Ginny still get along, and they’re both good to the kids, so I suppose it’s worked out. Gin does seem a bit happier now that they’ve split up." Hermione shrugged. "Who knows what really goes on in relationships?"
"That's true," Lavender said musingly. "One never does know.But what about Malfoy? How did Ginny meet him? Are they dating now, or what?"
"I don't know that I'd call it dating," Hermione replied. "She ran into him at the supermarket several weeks ago, and he helped her home. She says he’s quite nice, although now that I’ve seen him in person, I have to wonder how much of her assessment of his nice-ness is a reflection of his nice-lookingness," Hermione said, which sent Lavender off into fits of mirth again.
"Oh, I have to see him now!" Lavender pulled out a small lacy handkerchif and dabbed at her eyes. "If you can't even include him in a sentence without getting distracted, he must be simply scrumptious."
Hermione sighed in mock-disgust. "I’ll see what I can do about having Neville bring him 'round. But you have to promise not to drool on him."
"Oh, I wouldn't," Lavender protested. "I do wonder what happened to cause such a big reversal, though. I mean, if Neville can stand to work with him at all, he must have undergone some sort of major personality change."
"Twelve years is a long time. Who knows what happened to him? We've all changed," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I'd have given a great deal to have been a fly on the wall for Neville's first conversation with him, though."
~*~
"You would not believe who I ran into today," Ginny said to her sister-in-law later that evening, fixing tea in her tiny flat. It was about 8 in the evening, and Hermione was enjoying a quiet evening away from Ron, who was talking Quidditch and playing wizard poker at the small house he and his wife shared out near Ealing with a number of his chums from the Department of Magical Games and Sports.
Hermione raised an eyebrow as she accepted a coffee mug full of Earl Gray tea from Ginny and sat gratefully down at the kitchen table. She took a sip and sighed happily before asking,"Who?"
Ginny sat across from her, facing the living room where Hermione’s twins were playing dragons with Jamie, their three red heads bent together industriously. Sarah and Willie were already in bed, but Jamie was allowed to stay up a bit longer to play with his older cousins. "You might want to put your cup down."
"Oh, don’t be a tease! Who?"
"Don’t say I didn’t warn you...Draco Malfoy."
Hermione almost dropped her mug from nerveless fingers. "No!"
Ginny giggled at the expression on Hermione’s face. "Told you!"
"I thought he was dead!"
"Apparently he’s not, since he seemed mobile enough to rescue Jamie and bring him back to me. Not corpselike in the slightest. I didn’t recognize him at first...he’s really changed."
"He rescued Jamie?" Hermione asked, eyebrows raising.
"You know James, always wandering off on his own, looking for adventure. This time he found Malfoy and convinced him to help Jamie come find me. Near scared the life out of me to turn around and find Jamie holding the hand of some strange man, then have that man turn into Draco Malfoy."
"I’m sure!" Hermione said sympathetically. "So what did he say?"
"Not much, actually. Just that he’s working with Neville - of all people - doing Auror work, and that he’s only been back a short while. Six months or so. He was in Canada, apparently. He has the tiniest American accent...it’s quite cute." Ginny smiled.
"Um, cute?" Hermione narrowed her eyes at her sister-in-law. "I thought you said you met Draco Malfoy. Cute?"
Ginny laughed. "Yes, cute. Well, sexy would work as an adjective as well."
Hermione just stared.
Ginny laughed again. "What? It is kind of sexy! It makes him sound rather exotic."
"Gin, dear, are you sure you’re feeling alright?" Hermione asked, looking concerned. "Because if you’re having these kinds of thoughts about someone like Draco Malfoy, maybe you should consider perhaps getting out of the house a bit more. There's a lovely young man working at the Library who - "
"’Mione! Would you please stop matchmaking? All we did was chat," Ginny said indignantly. She eyed her friend quietly for a moment, then decided that she wouldn’t share the rest of the encounter. Somehow, Ginny doubted Hermione would understand what had prompted Ginny to accept Draco’s offer of a walk home, coffee and ice cream. In fact, Ginny wasn’t sure herself. It might have been the look in his eyes when he’d first helped her to her feet in the shop, or the tingle she’d felt whenever he touched her, however lightly. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone had made her feel like that, or looked at her the way he had, with that sort of - of desire, for lack of a better word. She actually wasn’t even sure that anyone had ever looked at her like that, not even Harry.
"Earth to Ginny...are you alright?"
Ginny started. "Of course, sorry." Hermione was still looking at her with an expression of disquiet. She realized that she was playing with her teabag, dipping it in her mug and raising it up to watch the water drain off it in abstraction.
"I said, I didn’t really think that Draco Malfoy would be the type of person you’d actually talk to. He’s so...so..."
"He was rather pleasant, actually," Ginny said defensively.
Hermione shot Ginny a skeptical look, brushing her bushy brown hair back from her face. "Are you sure it was Malfoy?"
"Yes, I’m sure it was Malfoy, I do remember him from school. I could tell it was him. Not right off, mind, but it was definitely him." Ginny set her teabag aside and took a sip from her cup. "He looks...well. Different, but not totally so. Tanned. He’s gained weight."
Hermione smirked at that. "Happens to the best of us, I’m sure," she said with a hint of malice. Hermione had put on some weight after having the twins, and was rather sensitive about it, despite Ron's protests that she looked just fine. She was usually half-heartedly following one diet or another trying to lose a few pounds. Ginny didn’t have the heart to tell her that in Draco’s case, 'gained weight' meant that he’d filled out and got broad and well-muscled and lithe and chiseled and...and....
"Gin?"
"Sorry, just thinking."
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. "You’re blushing."
"I am not blushing!" Ginny protested, trying to will her cheeks to stop turning pink.
"You are, you are sitting there and blushing over Draco Malfoy!"
"I am not!"
"Ginny..."
"What? I ran into him, and he was really rather pleasant, and I thought it was worth mentioning, that’s all!" Ginny set her mug of tea down on the table with a thump.
Hermione held up her hands. "Alright, alright, no need to get defensive, I was just saying."
"Well, touching as your concern is, it’s a bit misplaced, as nothing happened, and nothing will happen, and he probably won’t call anyway and it doesn’t matter and I don’t know why I mentioned it," Ginny said, pouting a bit. "So I guess we can just drop it."
"Call?" Hermione said faintly.
"Oh, hell," Ginny said despairingly, dropping her head into her hands. "I wasn’t going to tell you that."
"You gave him your phone number?"
"Yes," Ginny said in a very small voice.
Hermione was aghast. "Why?" Ginny sighed and rested her chin in her hand, staring at her cup of tea. "Because... because he was friendly and nice to the kids, he bought me a coffee and it’s been so long since any man has even looked at me twice, and then he asked for my phone number. So I thought, why not?"
"Why not? Because he’s Draco Malfoy, that’s why not!" Hermione spread her hands, as though it should have been obvious.
"So what?" Ginny shot back.
"Ginny, he was a suspected Death Eater! His father was a Death Eater! The whole Malfoy family was allied with Voldemort! The Ministry spent ages looking for him after the war! I can’t believe you’d even talk to him, never mind give him your phone number...what if he finds out where you live? What if he’s just using you for some revenge plan on Harry, because Harry killed Lucius?"
"Oh, please, be realistic. If he’d wanted revenge on Harry, he’d have done it before now. It’s been 12 years!" Ginny scoffed.
"Revenge is a dish best served cold," Hermione said darkly.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "He is not out for revenge, Hermione."
"How do you know? He wouldn’t say so, now would he? I just don’t want to see you get mixed up in something bad," Hermione said, taking a sip of tea.
"Well, he’s working with Neville. Ask him about Draco if you’re so concerned," Ginny said sullenly. "And, you know, I am 28 years old. I can actually take care of myself, strange though it may sound."
"Gin, I’m sorry. I’m just a little worried is all. You weren’t really involved in all the things that went on during the war, so maybe your perspective is a little different. I just don’t want to see you get involved in anything you can’t handle," Hermione said reasonably.
Ginny tightened her lips and didn’t reply, trying her best to ignore the implication that she wasn’t capable of handling something on her own. She loved Hermione, but sometimes her "I am the solver of all problems" attitude was really irritating.
"I can just imagine what Ron will say if he hears Malfoy is back," Hermione continued. "He’ll positively flip - "
"Oh, God, ‘Mione, don’t tell Ron!" Ginny's eyes widened in horror. Ron hated Draco with a thorough and quite unreasonable passion.
"Do I look stupid? Or suicidal? Ron won’t hear it from me. I won’t tell Harry either, for that matter," Hermione said. "Just...be careful, Ginny."
Ginny sighed, partly in relief, partly in annoyance. "Of course."
~*~
"So, tell me about Malfoy," Hermione said to Neville over her shoulder. They were in the lunch room of the Ministry of Magic, which despite being housed in a large stone building dating from the 17th century and populated by witches and wizards of all descriptions, still managed to look like all cafeterias everywhere: yellow linoleum, battered tables and molded plastic chairs that doubled as torture devices.
"And here I thought you were here for the pleasure of my company...you mean this date was just to pump me for information?" Neville said with a grin.
Hermione poked him with her elbow, since her hands were busy holding her cafeteria tray. "Nonsense, you know I’m here because I adore you madly, I just want to hear about Malfoy." She grinned back at him. "So tell me all about him. And tell me why you didn’t tell me you were working with him before!"
"I didn’t tell you before because it never came up. To be perfectly honest, we've been keeping his presence here as hush-hush as possible. There’s not all that much to tell, anyway." Neville nodded at a couple of people as he steered Hermione toward a table at the back of the crowded cafeteria "He's been in Canada for the last 12 years, and he just came back about 6 months ago to follow a suspect on a case he'd been working on there. The Ministry did an investigation on his actions during the war, and the verdict came back clear, so now he’s working with our department; he doesn’t actually work directly for the MoM. Cecil assigned me to help him while he's here, so I see him a fair bit." Neville shrugged as he pulled Hermione’s chair out for her.
Hermione glanced at him sympathetically. "That must be a bit awkward, having to work with him like that."
He shook his head. "Not really. It's rather strange, actually. It's like he became a different person while he was gone...I barely recognized him when I first met him again. I don't know what he was doing all that time, but he's a first-rate Auror now, got a nose for finding people and for anything Dark Arts related. And he picked up a passion for country music, of all things, which is incredibly irritating."
Hermione laughed. "As if Draco Malfoy could be anything less than incredibly irritating."
"Well that's the thing," Neville said. "He's actually not, anymore."
Hermione shot a skeptical look at him.
Neville grinned. "Well, not as much. He’s grown up quite a lot. He's still a wanker; he's still a merciless bastard, only now it's just to criminals, people who actually deserve it. With everyone else he's unfailingly polite. No more pulling wings off flies. No more tormenting people just because he can. The country music thing, and the fact that he always looks perfect, no matter what...those are the main irritating things about him now. That and he's a sarcastic fucking bastard, but then, he always was."
"He always looks perfect?"
"Always. Doesn't matter if he's just been chasing down a suspect, or hasn't slept in a week, or has spent 2 days in a car on a stakeout, the man always looks like he just
walked out of a salon. Hair perfect, nails manicured, pants pressed, drop dead gorgeous...I have no idea how he does it." Neville looked down at his own rumpled suit and sighed. "It is beyond annoying."
"Malfoy?"
"What?"
"You just used the phrase "drop dead gorgeous" to describe Malfoy."
Neville grinned. "Hermione, have you actually seen Draco since he came back?" His grin widened as she shook her head no. "Well, he looks much, much better than he did then. He is no longer the skinny ferret we knew and loved to hate. Not a woman in the office who hasn't fantasized about what our Mr. Malfoy looks like underneath those perfectly pressed suits I hate so much. I have no idea what he did while he was in Canada, but it sure as hell worked." He laughed at the look of frank disbelief on her face. "You really have to see him to believe it."
"I would have to see that. I keep trying to picture it, and end up seeing him as he looked at eleven; scrawny and short, with that nasty grin, hiding behind Crabbe and Goyle. God, how I hated him." Suppressing a chuckle, Hermione poked at her plate. "Remember the time I hit him, back in...what, third year? I don’t remember who was more surprised, him or me."
Neville laughed. "I remember hearing about it. Hermione, vanquisher of gits."
"So how do you put up with him?"
"I tell bad jokes. It irritates him no end, probably because half the time they actually make him laugh. He has a third-grade sense of humour." Neville shrugged. "I put up with him, he puts up with me, and between times we make a very good team."
Hermione looked bemused. "That, I would not have expected."
"What, that we actually get along?" Neville laughed as Hermione nodded. "Oh, half the time I do want to kill him, but...he's very, very good at what he does which goes a long way here. Anyone who is as good at Auroring as Malfoy is gets cut some slack. We all have quirks. Why the sudden interest in him, anyway? Planning to have a sordid affair on Ron, and casting about for the person most likely to give him a heart attack? Should I be hurt that I don't qualify?"
"I can't find the time to sleep with my own husband, never mind have a sordid affair with someone else," Hermione said with a laugh. "No, I'm just curious to see what he's up to now. Ginny ran into him the other day, and she mentioned it."
Neville froze, a forkful of peas halfway to his mouth. "Ginny?"
Hermione looked alarmed. "What?"
"Malfoy's seeing Ginny?"
"They’re not "seeing" each other, as far as I know. She says she ran into him at the supermarket, and he asked her for her number...she said that you were working with him, and I thought I’d ask. Is there a problem?"
"He's never bothered to mention it to me."
"Would he? From what Ginny says, they just ran into each other. No big deal."
Neville narrowed his eyes. "Gin’s still out in Barking, right?"
"Yes, silly, you know that, you helped her move."
Neville put his fork down calmly and pushed his tray away. "I think I need to have a word with my partner."
"What is it?" Hermione put a hand on Neville's arm. "Tell me what’s wrong. Is it about Malfoy running into Ginny?"
"Hermione...as far as I know, Draco is staying in his parents' old mansion near Bath. He is about as far from the East End of London as it is possible to get without living in Wales. How the hell did he "run in" to Ginny Potter at her local super?"
"What does that mean, then? Is Ginny in danger?" Hermione was stiff with alarm. Draco Malfoy may have been cleared of any wrongdoing in the war against Voldemort, but he was still Draco Malfoy. A man who, despite Neville’s assurances to the contrary, had tried to kill one of Hermione’s best friends, whose father was killed as he stood at Voldemort’s right hand.
"Danger? No. But I think its past time Mr. Malfoy and I had a little chat." Neville's eyes narrowed, and Hermione leaned back in alarm, almost unconsciously. The round-faced boy she'd known since Hogwarts was suddenly gone, replaced by a cold-eyed, hardened man, and Hermione felt a small pang of pity for Draco when Neville caught up with him.
~*~
"GINNY WEASLEY?"
"Potter."
"WHATEVER! What the hell are you trying to pull, Malfoy?"
Draco slumped in the visitor's chair in Neville's cramped office in the bowels of the Ministry building, tilting it backward onto its rear legs and putting his feet on Neville's desk, mindful of the piles of paper strewn everywhere. He stared broodingly at his loafers. "Nothing is going on. I ran into her, we chatted, I bought her coffee, end of story."
"How the hell did you happen to "run into her" in London's East End? You live in fucking BATH!" Neville was pacing in small circles next to his chair, glaring at Draco, who, despite the stuffiness of the room and the little man growing increasingly red in the face from yelling at him, still contrived to look both cool and comfortable.
"Only temporarily. And since when is it illegal for people who live in Bath to frequent the eastern half of London?"
"What are you planning?"
"For crying out loud, Longbottom, I am not planning anything. I ran into her, we went for coffee, I treated her kids to ice cream. That is all." Draco narrowed his eyes at his partner suspiciously. "Why are you so interested? And how did you find out I'd met her, anyway?"
"She told Hermione, Hermione told me."
"Of course...Granger, amateur detective, strikes again."
"It's Weasley now, and Ginny told her about you, so it hardly qualifies as detective work. I see her from time to time 'round the Ministry, and we meet up for lunch now and again; Ginny mentioned I work with you, and she asked. She’s worried."
"And yet I don't demand to know what you are doing having lunch with Ron Weasley - she married Ron, yes? - Ron Weasley's wife, preferring instead to give you the benefit of the doubt, and not immediately jump to the conclusion that "lunch" is an euphemism for "shagging her senseless". And I've just gone to a very unpleasant mental place, thank you, Longbottom."
Neville's mouth twitched slightly, and some of the tension went out of his shoulders; the Longbottom version of a belly laugh. "Fair enough, Malfoy. But you haven't answered my question. What is going on?"
"Don't get all interrogatory on me. Nothing is going on. Absolutely nothing at all. More's the pity," Draco muttered the last bit, but not quietly enough.
"Oh?" Neville asked softly, raising his eyebrows.
Draco sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "What do you want to hear?"
Neville sat down at his desk and eyed Draco over its littered surface. "How about the truth?"
Draco didn't look down, but stared at the ceiling as if hoping for divine intervention. "The truth, Mr. Longbottom, is that one afternoon not so long ago, I was out combing the supermarkets of London looking for Squirrel peanut butter - which apparently we do not sell here in Britain, although we should. World-dominating empire, my ass, can't buy decent peanut butter in this country - " he caught the look Neville aimed at him and sighed again. "Sorry. I was looking for peanut butter, and was accosted by a very small boy with bright red hair and Harry Potter's eyes. He calmly informed me that he had misplaced his mother - his words, not mine - and would I be so kind as to help him find her? What the hell was I going to do, tell a lost 6-year-old to sod off? So I let him lead me about, and discovered that Mother was none other than the littlest Weasel, all grown up."
"Peanut butter?"
"I like peanut butter," Draco said sulkily.
Neville snorted. "So, let me get this straight. You went on a quest for...peanut butter, ran into Ginny, suddenly decided to be her friend, and asked her out?" he asked skeptically.
Draco hitched one elegant shoulder in a small shrug. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Isn't shagging a Weasley against the Malfoy code of honour or something?"
"Well, since I'm the only Malfoy left, I figure I get to make my own rules."
"And?"
"And?"
"That's what happened? You got accosted by Jamie in the supermarket, and ended up shagging his mother?"
"You must lead a sad and sorry life indeed if you think that a cup of coffee constitutes a shag, Longbottom. If it does," Draco shot a sly glance at the litter of coffee cups scattered amongst the paper on Neville's desk, "you certainly get around."
Another twitch, one that almost became a smile. "But you intend to shag her, yes?"
"Hah."
Neville waited as Draco counted ceiling tiles. "That's not an answer."
"No, it's not."
"You do, though, don't you?"
"Do you plan to actually ask that young man down at the fish and chip place on the corner for his phone number, or are you just going to continue to make yourself sick on grease so you can stare at his ass?" Draco smirked as Neville's face went from red to white and back again.
"None of your damned business, you albino ferret!" Neville was quivering, but with rage or embarrassment, Draco couldn't tell. He spread his arms and shrugged.
"I do believe you just answered your own question."
"God, you're a pain in the ass."
"Notice me exercising remarkable self-restraint by not commenting on that."
"Fuck off."
"Poufter."
"Git. Don’t you have to be somewhere?"
"Might I remind you that you dragged me to the bowels of Hell that your Ministry superiors call their Headquarters to interrogate me?"
"And now I’m telling you to get the hell out. Smug, overgrown, whey-faced - "
"Why Neville, I didn’t know you cared." Draco swung his feet off the desk, tilted his chair back to the floor and stood, pausing at the door to blow the other man a kiss. "I’ll miss you terribly too, I promise."
"Get out. God." Neville stared at the door for several long moments after Draco shut it behind him. Something was up, he knew that, but Draco had always been close-mouthed, even as a child, playing his cards close to his chest. Neville was no closer to knowing what Draco was about with Ginny than he was when he’d dragged the other man down here, to pump him for information at Hermione’s request. All he had was a suspicion, and Neville knew better than anyone that of the two partners, it was not he who had the reliable hunches.
~*~
Several weeks later
"Hermione, I have nothing to tell you. I wish I did, but he’s a slippery bastard when he decides not to talk about something, and judging from the progress I’ve made - namely, none - I’m guessing that Ginny falls squarely in the category of Things Draco Will Not Discuss."
Hermione and Neville were back in the Ministry cafeteria, Hermione having run down from Diagon Alley, where she was doing research at the Library. "Ginny won’t say anything about him either, except to ask me not to tell Ron...which I agreed to, since you know what he’s like. All I know is that they’ve gone on three coffee dates, he's taken her and the children to the park twice, she zones out every time she talks about him, and that according to her, he seems to quite like the children. Which is disturbing in and of itself." She sighed and prodded at her lunch with her fork. "Why do we eat here? The food’s disgusting."
"We eat here, my dear, because I am on call and cannot leave the building. Sheer bad luck for you that most of the times we meet happen to be the times that I can’t actually go anywhere pleasant. I wouldn’t say that Malfoy liking kids is disturbing, just a bit out of character. Or what we know of his character, which isn’t much, to be honest."
"We know he’s a self-serving little sneak." Hermione snorted. "Or used to be," she added quickly at the look Neville shot her. "Can he really have changed that much?"
"Either he has changed that much, or none of us had any real clue as to what he was like back in school. Although considering the fact that all the Gryffindors hated him on sight, and vice versa, that might actually be close to the truth. Maybe there was always a warm, fluffy Draco just aching to get out the whole time."
Hermione made a rude noise.
"All right, maybe not. But he is a lot calmer now than he used to be. I don’t think he's using Ginny, if that’s what you’re worried about. He hasn’t slept with her, I know that. Hasn't even kissed her yet." Neville grinned as Hermione gaped at him. "I asked."
"You asked?"
"Quickest way to get an answer. He won’t lie to me."
"You seem so sure," Hermione said.
"Hermione, he’s my partner. My life is in his hands whenever we’re on duty and his in mine. We trust each other. We have to," he said. "Although it was hard at first...I kept waiting for him to lie in wait around a corner so he could, I don’t know, steal my wand and magic my shoelaces together. I did not want to be assigned to him, believe me."
"How did you end up working with Malfoy, anyway?"
"Long story, most of it classified. He came back, I was free, so they stuck us together. Sheer dumb luck. And now I’m stuck with him, the sly bastard," Neville said morosely.
"Why, Longbottom, I’m shocked and hurt to hear you say so. You think we’re stuck together? Don’t you believe in destiny? Fate? A meeting of true minds? Why, if it isn’t Mrs. Weasley." Neville and Hermione both jumped. Draco stood over the table a moment, smirking at Hermione, then leaned forward and gently closed her mouth, which had been hanging open as she stared at him, with one finger. She blushed a deep shade of red and quickly looked down at her food.
Neville had the appallingly bad grace to laugh at the expression on her face. "I did warn you," he grinned.
"Warn her about what?" Draco asked, looking interested.
Hermione blushed deeper and glared at Neville. "Oh, nothing. Just a conversation we had the other day. I haven’t seen you in ages, Draco, how have you been?"
"All right. Keeping busy...been here and there, doing this and that. Although I hate to interrupt your little tryst, I need to lure your date here away from you." Draco turned to Neville. "Cindy in Forensics thinks she might have something that could be a lead on the case."
Neville stood up immediately. "Finally. I’m sorry Hermione...duty calls. Give my love to Ron and the twins, will you?" He leaned over to give her a quick hug as she nodded. Draco took her hand and bowed to her with a flourish, kissing it softly on the knuckles and smirking before turning and following Neville out of the cafeteria, leaving Hermione alone with her plate full of mystery meat.
~*~
"I’m serious! I could not believe it was Draco Malfoy standing in front of me. He’s...he’s...I can’t even begin...I don’t know where to start. Lavender, you have no idea." Hermione was back in her own office, housed in one of the corner towers of the large building that served as Diagon Alley’s public library, sharing
tea with Lavender Thomas, nee Brown. Lavender was the researcher-in-residence for Divination at the Albus Dumbledore Public Library, a relatively new position, but one Hermione was glad to have her old housemate in. Flighty Lavender might be, but she was far better at Divination than old Trelawney had ever been.
The Library was a fairly recent addition to the heart of Wizarding London, having been established after the death of the great headmaster and the final defeat of Voldemort. Hermione spent half days there doing research during the week, and half days at the Ministry twice a month, lending her expertise in Transfiguration and Charms to whichever departments needed her. Now, however, she was ensconced in her chair, talking animatedly to Lavender, who’d cornered her the minute she got back.
"Judging from the look on your face," Lavender had said in a hushed voice, hauling Hermione across the library’s main floor, "something out of the ordinary happened at lunch. Spill!"
So Hermione was trying. "He’s...God he’s at least 6 feet tall, which he was before he left, but he’s filled out, and I don’t know, worked out or something. He’s not nearly as skinny or gawky as he was then. Remember how he used to be all elbows and knees and pointy nose? And he moves like a cat! And he has cheekbones to die for! How did we fail to notice that in school? And he grew out his hair, down past his chin, it’s practically silver now instead of just blond. And he’s got the nicest ass...oh lord." Hermione dropped her head into her hands. "And I just sat there gawking at him like an idiot. He actually had to close my mouth for me; I might as well have been drooling. I cannot believe myself. Given another moment, I’d have been simpering." She shook her head in disgust. "And now I’m babbling. I am officially going mad. It’s Draco Malfoy, for crying out loud...who cares what he looks like?"
Lavender laughed. "So how are we going to go about luring him in here? I have to see him now. If he can make Hermione Granger-Weasley, possessor of the cutest husband in England, go weak at the knees, he has to be a sight for sore eyes."
Hermione moaned. "Yes, now that I’ve made a complete fool of myself, I’ll just call up Neville and start dropping hints. ‘So, how’s Draco doing? Want to bring him down here so I can look pathetic again’? I am so embarrassed."
"Tell him to bring Draco over so I can look pathetic. I don’t mind." Lavender snickered, clearly enjoying Hermione’s discomfiture.
"Lavender, you are not helping!"
"I wonder if it would be polite to invite him out to lunch, you know, for old time’s sake..."
"Oh yes, there’s an idea. ‘Hello, Draco, I know we all loathed you with intensity at Hogwarts, but now that you’re back and look like sex on a stick, we desperate, depraved, middle-aged women would love to spend an hour or so slobbering on you and amusing ourselves by creating sordid little fantasies featuring you and
pots of chocolate, let’s hook up.’ Sound plan."
Lavender collapsed into gales of laughter. "Pots of chocolate?"
Hermione grinned evilly. "Oh, you can get quite a lot of mileage out of a pot of chocolate. You know that jarred Cadbury’s chocolate spread you can buy that Muggle kids love to put on toast? Very useful stuff."
"Oh dear...would it be wrong of me to picture Ron covered in chocolate?"
"Yes. Stick to Draco, or better yet, how about Dean? You know, the one you’re married to?"
"Bah, you’d never spot the chocolate on him."
"Wonder if they sell white chocolate in jars..."
"Hermione!"
"Hey, you get to picture my husband, I get to picture yours!"
Lavender descended into giggles again, infecting Hermione with her giddiness. Finally Hermione took a deep breath and sobered a bit. "It does make you wonder, though. I get the impression from Neville and Ginny both that the change in Malfoy is a lot more than just physical. I mean, he basically fled after the war. I wonder why he’s back now."
"Neville didn’t say?" Lavender asked.
"No, but you know how Neville is nowadays. You have to drag information out of him with a crowbar." Hermione sighed. "I guess I shouldn’t be all that surprised that Draco has changed so much. Who would have thought, in school, that Neville of all people would make an Auror?"
Lavender nodded. "I know. Or that you and I would end up housewives, or that Parvati would end up a globetrotting glamourpuss." She sighed and patted at her own pale hair, drawn back in a sensible bun. "I wanted to be the glamourpuss."
Hermione laughed softly. "I always thought I’d become a teacher, stay at Hogwarts, have a career, maybe travel...and I end up married with two impossible children, barely finding time to do even half of the research I'd like."
"But you have a very cute husband."
"There is that." Hermione smiled fondly at the picture of Ron and their twin sons that held a place of honour on her desk. "Not that Dean is anything to sneeze at."
Lavender leaned back in her chair and sighed. "I always rather thought you’d end up with Harry, though."
Hermione blinked. "With Harry?"
"Well, yes. I mean, look at the choices. Ron, trusty sidekick with terrible temper or Harry, dashing and handsome defeater of evil wizards. I’d have gone for Harry."
"Ron doesn’t have a terrible temper!" Hermione protested, as Lavender nodded vehemently. "He doesn't! And anyway, I honestly never seriously considered it. I mean, Harry is a wonderful person, and my best friend, but...he’s like my brother. Ron’s always been more than that. And there was always Ginny for Harry."
Lavender nodded. "I always wondered about that. I mean, the whole dynamic of your friendship with the two of them. And how Gin fit into everything."
"I’ve never really analyzed it. Ron and I have always seemed like a bit of a couple, partly because Harry’s always been quite standoffish, even within the three of us. Self-contained. I did have a bit of a crush on him in fifth year, but I got over it, since he never seemed to notice, and because, well, Ron..."
"Ron followed you around like a puppy," Lavender giggled.
Hermione blushed and smiled. "And then Harry and I were the same height for a bit, which just killed any and all possibility of romance. Not that it’s his fault, but I don’t think I could date a man who was quite that short." That made Lavender snort and giggle again, but Hermione determinedly ignored her. "Well, it's not very romantic, is it? Gazing dreamily into your lover's eyes is all very nice in theory, but when it comes down to it, who'd be getting the jars down from the top shelf in that relationship? I don’t know how Ginny managed it. She was actually taller than he was for a little while, ‘til he hit his growth spurt in seventh year."
"Gin’s been starry-eyed for Harry forever, though. I doubt she cared," Lavender pointed out. "I was rather shocked they even got divorced."
"You and everyone else, including the entire Weasley family. I thought Molly was going to take to her bed from shock. But Harry and Ginny still get along, and they’re both good to the kids, so I suppose it’s worked out. Gin does seem a bit happier now that they’ve split up." Hermione shrugged. "Who knows what really goes on in relationships?"
"That's true," Lavender said musingly. "One never does know.But what about Malfoy? How did Ginny meet him? Are they dating now, or what?"
"I don't know that I'd call it dating," Hermione replied. "She ran into him at the supermarket several weeks ago, and he helped her home. She says he’s quite nice, although now that I’ve seen him in person, I have to wonder how much of her assessment of his nice-ness is a reflection of his nice-lookingness," Hermione said, which sent Lavender off into fits of mirth again.
"Oh, I have to see him now!" Lavender pulled out a small lacy handkerchif and dabbed at her eyes. "If you can't even include him in a sentence without getting distracted, he must be simply scrumptious."
Hermione sighed in mock-disgust. "I’ll see what I can do about having Neville bring him 'round. But you have to promise not to drool on him."
"Oh, I wouldn't," Lavender protested. "I do wonder what happened to cause such a big reversal, though. I mean, if Neville can stand to work with him at all, he must have undergone some sort of major personality change."
"Twelve years is a long time. Who knows what happened to him? We've all changed," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I'd have given a great deal to have been a fly on the wall for Neville's first conversation with him, though."
~*~
Leave a Review