Notes: The Re-establishment of Endangered Species | By : T-W-O Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 5048 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I neither own nor profit from anything in the Harry Potter universe -- stories, characters, settings, prior art. |
At 22
“The right environment cannot be stressed enough. While it may not be ideal, with effort and commitment, a suitable habitat providing the basics will do wonders in re-establishing the community.” — The Bureaucrat’s Guide to the Rehabilitation and Re-establishment of Endangered Species page 194
“So, you see…” she spoke somewhat nervously, all things considered, “you would be assisting the Ministry. It would be good for wizarding Britain and…”
“ — and good for the rehabilitation of my family’s tainted name and reputation. Come, Granger, where’s that Gryffindor courage the Daily Prophet’s so fond of plastering on its main page? I’m well aware of my —”
“Draco, please be kind. Hermione’s made an effort to assist us and your courtesy, at least, should be evident.”
The soft censure came from Draco’s bride, Astoria Greengrass Malfoy.
Hermione knew little about her, except through others, but considered her a surprise and approved of Draco’s good sense in marrying a pure-blood with brains — not just looks and a legible cheque-writing autograph. He deserved, to her mind, a partner capable of supporting his new self.
“How will this work, Granger?” the chastened new Lord of Malfoy Manor inquired in a gruff but contrite voice.
“Well, the Ministry will bring specific creatures here, in an area you designate, and will provide for their care. You’ll need to provide the exact magical mapping coordinates — to ensure we don’t infringe where we shouldn’t; we’ll ward the refuge. Of course, if something happens to the wards, we’d appreciate any emergency help you can provide. And we’ll pay you — or your firm. If you’re agreeable, we can hash that out during contract negotiation.”
“Payment’s unnecessary.”
The idea of looking like a charity case stiffened Draco’s carriage in his chair; he resembled his father too much in these moments.
“I-I-I just meant —”
“I know what you meant. How long?”
Hermione inhaled deeply to regain her composure. But for their joint stint at university, she’d not be subjecting herself to Incensed-and-Put-Upon Malfoy.
“For as long as it takes or as I’m at the Ministry.”
Her voiced quieted before she spoke once more.
“You will only ever have to deal with me, Draco; I give you my word. If I leave the department or the Ministry, I’ll make sure to move the program from the Manor’s grounds.”
For the first time since their marriage, Astoria observed the subtle interplay of a conversation without words. Theo Nott, of their normal social set, remarked when drunk on the cozy uni relationship of the Hogwarts Slytherin braniacs — Draco, Theo and Terry Higgs — with, of all people, Hermione Granger.
Post-Hogwarts school days saw the Slytherin boys (defended by “Run-to-Danger Granger”) staring down the hateful retaliation of their university classmates. Nights had them holed up in one of the Slytherin’s posh London flats, skittering through debates on class materials, potion approaches, politics in the magical and non-magical worlds (that Hermione introduced them to, arguing their ancestral businesses would triple their profits with Muggle products) and feminism (including a witch’s right to control her own body) — all while consuming gourmet faire cooked by “Sheriff” Granger and her epicurean partner — “Prince” Malfoy.
Draco’s engagement to Astoria had been announced in the Daily Prophet the day he graduated from uni. The betrothal stunned his cooking partner; she’d avoided the wedding despite receiving a direct invitation.
It was too soon…
“Will you write the contract?”
Miss Granger’s small smile was not missed by the new Mrs. Malfoy.
“Would you sign it if I didn’t?”
“You know me too well, Mudblood.”
Astoria’s mortified shrieked — “DRACO!” — delayed notice of the full-faced grin and laughter from his target.
“Yes, I do — you impotent Ferret. I’ll send the draft to your office tomorrow.”
The word choice set the newlywed bride to deeper deliberation.
“Astoria,” Hermione rose, collecting her neat piles of proposals into her worn work satchel, “it’s so nice to finally spend time with you. I’d like to meet for tea whenever you’re available.”
“I’d love that, Miss Granger.”
“Hermione, please,” she corrected, extending a hand in farewell.
Shaking the Lord and Lady’s outstretched hands, the Gryffindor dynamo noted the coolness of one and the expected heat from the other.
“Don’t hesitate to contact me if those papers don’t arrive tomorrow morning. I’ll see myself out,” she waved to the couple as Winky, their maid elf, assisted the visitor with her coat. The sound of her heels on the ancient oak flooring echoed in the salon before the sharp click of those same stilettos on the foyer tile took over.
“Hermione!”
Behind his shouted call, her host jogged in her direction to catch her before she reached the floo.
“Yes?” she replied, turning to acknowledge his approach.
“Thank you…”
Blocked from view by Draco’s lithe body, Astoria could only speculate Hermione’s quiet response but observed that it involved a gentle touch.
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