“Hermione, why is your head in the butter?”
Hermione moaned in reply from the kitchen table, not minding the soft butter her head was currently resting on.
“This has to do with Malfoy, doesn’t it?” Harry asked, wrapping his arms around her from behind.
“How can it not be about him?” Hermione mumbled, refusing to open her eyes. “He’s ruining my life, in case you haven’t realized yet.”
Harry laughed. “I did actually realize that, as a matter of fact. But that just might be because you’ve already told me that a dozen times.”
“That doesn’t make it any more untrue,” Hermione replied, wishing she could just disappear into the soft butter and make everything better.
Today was her first day as Malfoy’s, well, Mr. Malfoy’s assistant. Hermione had seen the girls he usually worked with. They were the kind of balloon-chested women who got through life effortlessly by always seeming to forget to close the top button of their impossibly tight blouses. If they did have any brains at all, Hermione highly doubted that their amazing intelligence was the reason Malfoy chose them. But, now, it was Hermione who was going to have to work for Malfoy. Not only that, she was going to have to please him. She was going to have to prove to him that she was capable of anything he could throw at her, anything at all.
Yeah, right, Hermione thought angrily. Even if I get things right, I’m sure he’ll find a way to prove me wrong. That is exactly what a prat like him would do.
“Maybe he’s changed, Hermione,” Harry continued, as though reading her thoughts. “You never know.”
“You can’t change a leopard’s spots, Harry,” Hermione replied, then added with a smile. “Or a ferret, in this case.”
Harry laughed and gave Hermione a quick kiss. “That’s more like it. Now get going. You’re gonna be late.”
Hermione sighed loudly and finally stood up, wiping the butter off of her forehead. “If I don’t come home tonight, tell Ginny she can have Crookshanks.”
Harry chuckled. “If that old cat is still alive by tonight, I’ll be amazed.”
Harry kissed her, then but quickly pulled away when Hermione leaned in. That was how it was, living with Harry. He was always careful never to be too rough, and was forever cautious about how he treated her. Sometimes, Hermione admired this in him - other times, it annoyed her to death.
“Just remember, Hermione…” Harry whispered. “If Malfoy’s tough on you, show the git you can be tougher.”
And with that, Hermione stepped into the fireplace of their apartment and reappeared seconds after in the Ministry.
Malfoy was reading a report on Advanced Wand Promotion when he heard someone hesitate outside his door. A small smile spread across his features when Hermione stepped into his office.
“Ms. Granger. What a pleasure.”
“I’m sorry I can’t say the same to you, Malfoy.”
Malfoy smirked. “Now, is that really the first impression you want to give your new boss?”
It seemed to take Hermione a superhuman effort not to retort, but she chose to remain silent. Throughout her five years of working for the Ministry, she had never once had to face Malfoy and saw now that she hadn’t missed much. He had changed only slightly over the years, and Hermione could tell he was tall, probably a few inches more than her. Despite her hatred for him, Hermione had to admit that, even through his thick robes, she could still see the outline of the body that turned most of her female co-workers to pulp at one glance. Keeping up with all of his assistants was probably an excellent workout.
“Now, that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Malfoy asked, cutting Hermione off in her silent snicker. “Take a seat, Ms. Granger.”
Hermione sat down primly in the green plush chair Malfoy pointed to in front of his desk and looked around. The dark green curtains blocked out most of the light in Malfoy’s office and gave the room a dreary feeling. The carpet, green as well, was lined with gold thread, sparkling every few seconds the light from Malfoy’s lamps caught it. Against almost every wall in the room towered bookshelves stacked with thousands of dusty looking books. There were no personal items in Malfoy’s office, not even a single picture. Hermione pursed her lips as she continued stalling but finally forced herself to glance towards Malfoy after many minutes of silence had passed.
“Why don’t we start by going over your tasks as my new assistant?” Malfoy started, leering at the last word.
Hermione nodded, not trusting her voice. She loathed the way Malfoy was staring at her; the obvious glee in his usually cold eyes made them sparkle annoyingly.
But Hermione’s silence didn’t last for long, for Malfoy had begun reciting to her the assignments she was to do - everything from items as stupid as polishing his wand to as menial as cleaning his bookshelves was present on his list. Her mouth dropped open at the last task.
“Keep you entertained?” Hermione asked angrily. “What in the world is that supposed to mean?”
Malfoy smiled. “And here I was, thinking you were smart.”
Hermione felt her face redden. “That’s not what I “ oh, never mind. But these tasks!” Hermione spat out the word. “They have nothing to do with your job!”
A chuckle emerged from Malfoy’s lips. “And how would you know that, Ms. Granger? Don’t tell me you’ve been the head of Wizard Security before.”
“Ha,” Hermione replied. “Stop playing, Malfoy. Everyone knows you’re the next obvious choice to become Minister. As Scrimgeour obviously believes, what happened in the past, is no longer an issue. Even without finishing at Hogwarts, you still managed to beat every single wizard that showed up in pursuit of this job. That is why the Minister assigned me to you, so that I can take over this position when you’re promoted. You’re supposed to show me how to run your job! Scrimgeour didn’t assign me to you as your maid! I will not -”
“I was under the impression that the Minister assigned you to me as my assistant, Ms. Granger. Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I could swear that his exact words were that, as my assistant, you would have to do anything I ask of you.”
Hermione’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. She knew he was right, but even in her worst nightmares she had never imagined that Malfoy would have her do his chores.
“But how in the world would you expect me to handle your job properly then?” Hermione hissed angrily. “I know there’s more to your job than sleeping with all of your assistants.”
Hermione ignored Malfoy’s raised eyebrow and went on.
“I am going to get this job, Malfoy, I can assure you of that. But I expect you to at least tutor me a bit. Even you wouldn’t leave this office poorly attended to. So, if doing your chores for the month will force you to teach me, then so be it. But I expect you to help me in return, or else the Minister is getting an earful. Do we have an understanding?”
Malfoy watched on with an amused smile.
“Alright, Granger.” He replied, finally dropping the ‘Ms.’ pretense. “I will give you an overview of my job at the end of this month if you perform well in all of the tasks I have given and will give you. You have my word on that.”
Hermione nodded, feeling triumphant as Malfoy stood up.
“I’ve got some things to see to now, Granger,” Malfoy called over his shoulder, turning towards her from the doorway. “Oh, and, by the way, I don’t think you completely understood the tasks that I read to you earlier.”
Hermione looked up at him, and Malfoy suddenly broke into a wide grin.
“Those weren’t the tasks for you to finish this month.” Malfoy laughed. “Those were the tasks for you to finish today.”
Malfoy laughed once more as Hermione’s face changed from angry to absolutely furious, then finally fall in silent defeat. He closed the door too soon to see the silent daggers that then followed, as Hermione glared at the closed door.
Die, ferret, die.
A Popped Bubble by youngrowling
Chapter Endnotes: my love goes out to my amazing beta reader, DracoGurlFurever.