Chapter Text
The Ministry atrium glittered in gold and soft candlelight, the kind of elegant charm Hermione Granger used to find comforting. Tonight, it only reminded her how exhausted she was. Ministry events these days all felt the same; stuffy, political and like she was stuck playing a part in a performance. Tonight, she wasn’t feeling it.
Tonight was just another event to celebrate another year. Another celebration of post-war “progress”. Another night of politely smiling while high officials congratulated themselves for work that she and her team continuously busted themselves to do, every day.
Minister Kingsley had decided that this year, the theme for the gala would be a masquerade ball. Because what’s better than donning on masks to celebrate the downfall of the death eaters… who also wore masks. The irony was not beyond her.
She smoothed a hand over the formal floor length gown she wore; soft silver silk with a subtle elegance to it. The dress flowed to the floor in gentle waves and highlighted her features. Something that Ginny had picked out, telling Hermione it would turn heads but still be sensible. Her mask matched the gown – a delicate silver lace piece that curved over her cheekbones delicately. Not to hide her identity, but to simply soften her features.
A few of the DMLE Aurors walked past and offered smiles, waves, and passing “hello’s” as they passed by. They always made her feel welcome. She’d earned her place here. She knew that. She just wished she felt less… tired.
The room buzzed with conversation, lanterns and candles floating overhead. Hermione accepted a flute of champagne from a passing tray and let herself breathe for a moment.
“Hermione!” someone called out. She turned to see Harry and Ginny standing at a nearby table. She offered a small wave as they approached. Ginny was wearing a black-and-burgundy floor-length gown that looked like she had been made for, the colors rich and dramatic under the lighting. Harry matched in a suit and tie of the same palette, the two of them unmistakably coordinated, both adorned with masks that perfectly complimented their ensemble.
“’Mione, I told you that dress was stunning. It looks even better on you now than it did at the store!” Ginny exclaimed as she pecked Hermione on the cheek. Harry offered her a brief hug and ordered a firewhisky from the waiter passing.
It wasn’t long before Kingsley stepped onto the raised platform at the front of the hall. The room erupted in applause from those in attendance, anticipating the yearly speech made before the awards ceremony and upcoming year remarks.
“Thank you all for joining us tonight,” he began, voice steady, a commanding presence in the room. “We are gathered here to honor the progress we’ve made – and to welcome the progress to come. Tonight, we acknowledge our past, reflect and celebrate our victories, and set goals and aspirations for our future…”
Hermione listened with half an ear. She had heard this speech before, specifically at every other ministry event over the past several years. Justice reform. Public Servant Accountability. Community Safety. Public Service. Life, liberty, pursuit of happiness stuff.
“… the Ministry’s mission will remain to prioritize the safety and well-being of our magical community. For every citizen to be free to pursue an equal opportunity to do better for themselves and for the world. The Ministry strives to provide security and justice, and hold ourselves accountable to our constituents. As an American Muggle President once said, ‘government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish’”. Thank you!”
More applause rang out. Hermione politely clapped around her champaign flute. She could recite the propaganda in her sleep.
The awards ceremony was brief. Several Aurors were given well-deserved recognition for outstanding work, presented by Harry, who was currently the Head Auror. Harry, not a fan of public speaking, gave a short and sweet speech, which he admitted weeks ago that had been provided to him by Kinglsey secretary. Other divisions followed suit with awards and short speeches from division leaders.
Kingsley approached the podium once more.
“And now,” Kingsley continued, “we look towards the future. The Ministry is looking to expand efforts in several departments to serve our citizens to the fullest extent possible.”
Hermione half-listened, sipping her drink.
“As part of this initiative, I am pleased to announce a new position created within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We have created a consultant position. This person will work as our liaison between the DMLE, the Wizengamot, Victim Affairs, and will assist in working on cases.”
This piqued her interest. She had been begging Kingsley to get someone in a position to do this. She had been trying to juggle all of this on top of her work in legal, prosecuting cases for the DMLE. She was burnt out and jaded, walking on this tightrope so long just tore her apart. If Kingsley was hiring someone to take some of that off her plate, she’d take it.
“I’m pleased to announce the newest member to the Ministry. Please help me welcome DMLE’s new consultant… Draco Malfoy.”
Hermione’s hand froze halfway to her mouth. She didn’t breathe, she didn’t blink, she didn’t dare move a single muscle.
The room shifted – whispers, stiffening shoulders, overall surprise.
Draco Malfoy stepped forward, climbing the stairs towards the podium. Or at least she thought it might be him, but her mind could be playing tricks on her.
He looked… different. Older. Sharper around the edges, but more refined than before. His blond hair was short and well kept, not the mop that he had the last time she saw him. His face, was filled out, no longer sunken in and pale. His posture was straighter and his expression carefully neutral. There was no arrogance, no sneer – just a quiet, controlled presence that couldn’t be explained.
He didn’t scan the room for approval. He didn’t smirk. Heck, he didn’t even turn up his nose.
He simply walked up to Kingsley who was standing on the platform, shook his hand, photo was snapped, and he walked back down the steps.
Harry, now returned to his place with her and Ginny, cleared his throat quietly behind Hermione and caused her to jump. The break in her concentration, she pulled her focus away from the scene before her. She turned to Harry.
“Did you know about this?” she accused.
Harry refused to meet her eye. The obvious discomfort at being the focus of her inquiry was obvious on his face and neck.
She would not make a scene here. She would just continue with the pleasantries, keep her composure, and then leave gracefully when it was appropriate. She would not overreact. She would also not think too hard about the unusual feeling that she had when she thought about what she just witnessed. She definitely would not think about the fact that she thought Malfoy looked… good.
A while later, the trio were standing by the refreshments table, mid-conversation, when she felt someone approach.
She turned – and there he was.
“Granger,” Malfoy said, voice low, polite, almost formal.
“Malfoy.” She nodded, equally stiff.
He turned to the other two. “Potter. Ginevra.” He held a hand out for Harry, who shook it.
“Malfoy.” Ginny repeated. “Well, as nice as it was running into you, I was just telling Harry it was time for us to go. Kids need baths and put to bed before my mother allows them to run amok all night and then we will never get an end put to it.” She looked at Harry, who looked grateful for the excuse to escape that his wife just pulled out. She turned back. “Congrats on the job, Malfoy. ‘Mione, I will call you tomorrow.”
And with another handshake between the men, and a quick hug between Hermione and Ginny and Hermione and Harry, the traitorous couple disappeared into the crowd and out the door.
In their absence, they left a beat of silence. Not hostile. Just… unfamiliar.
Before Hermione could make a similar excuse to leave, a Wizengamot official hurried over. “Hermione, quick question – in the affidavit for the smuggler case, paragraph four, is that provision about artifact possession supposed to be meant applicable retroactively?”
Hermione opened her mouth – but Malfoy spoke first, calm and precise.
“No,” he said. “Retroactive enforcement would violate the 1673 Magical Property Act. Ms. Granger can correct me if I am wrong, but the intent was forward-facing, and the affidavit further lays out the violations of the Act that were alleged by the suspects as well as summarizes policing actions moving forward. The affidavit itself would best be accompanied by a proffer of contributing laws and regulations that feed into the current Act, as well.”
The official blinked, looking between the two. “Oh. Thank you. That makes sense.”
Hermione found herself staring at Malfoy.
He didn’t gloat, no smirk in sight.
He simply inclined his head, as if offering this information and explanation was the most natural thing in the world. Almost as natural as breathing.
“I didn’t realize you had memorized the Property Act,” she said quietly. “Or my affidavit for that matter.”
“I didn’t.” He replied. “I reviewed it earlier this week. The apothecary owner that the victim’s advocate was working with was directed to me, so I brushed up on the case. The affidavit was well written and organized. It was easy to follow.”
Another beat of silence.
Then there was a shift. Hermione felt it inside. It wasn’t quite forgiveness, not warmth, but almost like a fracture in the wall that she had built up around the past.
She hadn’t even known that the Wizengamot member had walked away.
The silence remained.
“Well, I hope you enjoy your evening, Granger,” Malfoy said, stepping back.
She watched him walk away, feeling unusual.
This was not the Malfoy that she had known at Hogwarts. This version of Malfoy was… I indescribable.
And that, somehow, was more disarming than anything.
Hermione felt something in her gut, something that told her this was just the beginning or whatever was to come.