Hermione went back to work on Monday. The offices smelled of fresh paint and dry wall. Since only the paper records were destroyed none of the furniture was replaced. Her desk smelled like smoke but showed no outward signs of damage. After lunch one of the executives came to see her. “Miss Granger,” he said, “Come with me please.” She stood up and followed him. Mr. Andrews expected to be obeyed. He led her to a conference room. There was a long table with two seats at the ends and four on each side.

“Miss Granger, we’d like to offer you a promotion.” Hermione hid her smile and acted surprised. It was company policy to not inform people when they were up for promotion. Supervisors could observe employees who didn’t know to be on their best behavior; it usually insured that the people in higher positions in the company deserved to their jobs.

“If you choose to take the position,” he said, “You will be working from another of our London locations in our Research and Development Division.”

“Research and Development?” It was exactly what she’d been angling for.

“You show a strong aptitude for R and D. So, would you like the job?”

“I’m flattered, sir. I couldn’t say no.”

Mr. Andrews smiled, “Excellent,” he handed her a business card. “Report to this address at 9 A.M. tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” She took the card, the address looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Mr. Andrews stood up and left her alone in the room. Hermione smiled and left. She gathered her few personal items from the desk and was out of the office by 5:01. In celebration Hermione picked up a cappuccino on her way to the tube station.

When she got back to the flat she wrote in the Informant:

I’ve received a promotion. I will be working near the device in Research and Development.

She closed the Informant and opened a book about the spy system in the first war against Voldermort.

Alissa didn’t get home until about seven. “Do you have plans tonight?” she asked.

“Not really, why?” Hermione had planned to continue her book, in private, of course.

“I’m taking you out in celebration.”

“I hope you mean a nice quiet dinner and maybe a movie.”

Alissa smiled, “You need to learn to have a little fun, we’ll leave at nine. It’s a little bit of a ride.” Alissa left the room, leaving no space for arguments. Muggle Hermione wouldn’t have said no anyway, it just wasn’t like her.

By ten to nine Hermione was ready in a short, but modest, burgundy dress. Alissa wasn’t ready until after 9:15. They walked as briskly as their heels would carry them to the tube station. The club was thirty minutes away. At times like that, sitting in the tube, squished in between workaholics and alcoholics, Hermione wished she hadn’t taken her job. “We’re working for the same people.” She heard Malfoy say.

No one, not even Harry, knew what she did. Her employer made sure she knew that secrecy, even with the famous Harry Potter, was of the utmost importance. It made sense five years ago. Now it seemed like an attempt to isolate her from her old life. She couldn’t be working for the same people as Malfoy, he was bad, she was good, that simple. But he’d succeeded in planting a seed of doubt.

“Hermione! Come on, this is our stop.” Alissa was pulling on Hermione’s arm. “You were a million miles away.”

Hermione smiled, “I was just thinking about work.”

“No, no,” Alissa was shaking her head, “None of that tonight.” Five minutes from the station they got in line at the club. Alissa turned to Hermione, a guilty look on her face. “This was a setup.”

For a second, Hermione couldn’t speak. Then she realized that Alissa wasn’t talking about spies or work, “What?”

“You remember that guy I went out with a while ago?”

“The stalker? Drake Something-or-other?”

“Draco Malfoy, Drake’s just a nickname. Yeah, him.”

Hermione almost laughed, “You set me up with a stalker?” Or an evil dark wizard whose hated me for over ten years?

“Maybe I was exaggerating a bit when I said stalker.” They were let into the club. The music was so loud that Hermione almost couldn’t hear Alissa when she yelled, “He’s not bad really, just not right for me. He seems like your type.” Hermione almost laughed, but she suppressed it. There were tables off to the side of the dance floor. Malfoy was standing at one of them. “Just give him a chance, please?”

She really had no choice. “The minute he starts to act like a stalker, I’m leaving.” They walked to Malfoy’s table.

“Draco, this is Hermione Granger,” Alissa said, beaming, “Hermione, Draco Malfoy.”

Hermione held out her hand, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, Draco.” It was difficult to say his first name.

Instead of shaking her hand, he kissed it, Alissa giggled. Hermione barely suppressed a shudder. “The pleasure is all mine.”

“Oy! Alissa!”

“That’s my friend Tony,” said Alissa. “Have fun,” and she was gone.

“What are you thinking, Granger?” There was no malice in his voice.

Her lips curled in a tight smile, “I’m trying to figure out which god I’ve angered. It’s the only explanation I can come up for this situation.” She shook her head. “Were you tricked into this, or are you here on purpose?”

“You won’t believe me either way. But it actually was a trick. I won’t pretend that I want to be here, at least not with you,” he looked at his muggle watch, “How long do you think we have to pretend to be enjoying ourselves?”

“No more than an hour I should think.” She sat down at one of the stools. “How about you get us some drinks?” He looked like he would say no for a moment, but he turned to go to the bar. “Just a bottle of water for me.” She didn’t know if he heard her, or if he was listening.

Several minutes later he came back carrying two bottles of water. He put one down in front of her and sat on the stool on the other side of the table. They said nothing, both drinking their water. It turned into a very long staring contest. “Alissa’s coming this way,” Draco finally said.

Hermione brightened, “So, have you seen that new movie?” She shook her head, “I can’t remember the title. There’s a girl and she goes around,” Alissa tapped her on the shoulder. “Could you hold on a minute, Draco?” He nodded. She got up and walked a few steps away from the table. “What?”

“You two have been sitting and talking for the past twenty minutes! Go, dance, have some fun. Just don’t be so boring.” Alissa walked away before Hermione could say anything. She went back to the table.

“Care to dance?” she asked Malfoy. The look of shock was evident on his face. “It’s part of the Muggle mating ritual,” she explained. “Boy and girl exchange minimal speech, and then they do a public rendition of clothed sex, followed by the real thing in private. Luckily we only need to do step on and two.”

Draco blinked his eyes once, then again. It was like he was seeing Hermione for the first time. At least, it looked that way. Then he smirked, “Well, Granger. I never knew you had it in you.” He stood up and led her to the dance floor.

Just as they were about to dance, a slow song came on. Hermione let out an ironic laugh. Putting her head on his shoulder and swaying to the music, she said, “If the people at Hogwarts could see us now.” He, too, chuckled. As they swayed together on the floor, the usual observer would only see two people dancing together, they may have been complete strangers, or madly in love. It wasn’t readily apparent that they were neither strangers nor lovers, but enemies. After enough extremely tense had time passed, Hermione said, “Let’s go.”

Once they were outside Hermione was ready to part ways, but Malfoy asked, “Isn’t it usual on these Muggle mating rituals, was it, for the man to escort the woman home? We wouldn’t want to blow your cover.” Hermione nodded reluctantly. She followed him to his car. “It’s completely Muggle. I can’t even use magic to control it.”

“Poor baby.” Hermione sat in the seat and stared out at London as it flew by in a blur. A song played on the radio.

“I know how to hurt, I know how to heal. I know what to show, And what to conceal. I know when to talk, And I know when to touch, No one ever died from wanting to much.”

She didn’t listen intently until she heard:

“People like us, Know how to survive. There’s no point in living, If you can’t feel alive. We know when to kiss, And we know when to kill If we can’t have it all, Then nobody will.”

They arrived at her building. There was a light on in her flat. “Damn, Alissa’s home.” And she was looking out the window. Hermione unbuckled her seat belt and leaned over towards Malfoy. Her lips were next to his ear, but she said nothing.

However, he said, “See you around.” She got out of the car, trying desperately not to shake her head. Draco Malfoy would always be a prat. No doubt about it.

When she reached her door Alissa already had it opened. “So,” she asked, “How was it?”

“I’m really tired,” she said, “Can we talk about it some other time.” Before Alissa could object she walked to her room. Opening the Informant, she read:

An operative is already in that department. You will work as a team to finish this assignment.

Her employers were careful to never name names in the Informant. If the wrong wizard got a hold of it, and knew how to break through the security charms, the entire organization was at stake.

Hermione woke on the verge of tears. It was already 7:30, but she wasn’t worried about time. She forsook her run and got ready leisurely. Once she was ready in her light gray business suit she set out. By the time she got to her new office it was nearly 8:50. She finally knew why the address had seemed so familiar, it was two doors down from the Leaky Cauldron. No wonder the company knew about magic.

Once she was inside the secretary directed her to a lift. The lift took her three levels down. A supervisor greeted her when she arrived at the right place. “Miss Granger,” he said, “Welcome to sublevel 3. We work in groups of two here, it makes the place friendlier and more efficient. Let me introduce you to your partner and then I’ll explain what you’ll be doing.”

The cheerful man led her to a desk, another desk was across from it. They were touching. A blond man was sitting there, her partner. “We’re working for the same people.” Malfoy had said.

Why did he have to be right?